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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30117885">Of Liars and Lap Dances</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/songbvrd/pseuds/songbvrd'>songbvrd</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Childhood Friends, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minho is a Good Friend (Maze Runner), No Proofreading We Die Like Men, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oblivious Newt (Maze Runner), Oblivious Thomas (Maze Runner), Thomas is a Little Shit (Maze Runner), Unrequited Love, aka the only consistent thing about my fanfics, and there was only one bed, everyone knows but them, fake boyfriend for a wedding trope, its requited they're just idiots, this was meant to be 2k words lmao</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:22:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,291</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30117885</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/songbvrd/pseuds/songbvrd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Thomas gets invited to the wedding of not one, but two of his exes, he's terrified to go alone. </p><p>Relying on the fact that everyone has always thought there was something between him and Newt, he begs his best friend to go with him and pretend to be his boyfriend.</p><p>OR</p><p>The one where I see how much I can embarrass Thomas in 25k words.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harriet/Sonya | Elizabeth "Lizzy" (Maze Runner), Minho &amp; Newt &amp; Thomas (Maze Runner), Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner), Teresa Agnes/Brenda (Maze Runner)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>141</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Of Liars and Lap Dances</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I have multiple WIPs I should be working on, but have this monster sized oneshot instead xoxoxo</p><p>As always, please feel free to leave me any/all feedback and come shout at me on tumblr/twitter @songbvrd! I accept requests there as well &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Absolutely fucking not, Tommy.” Newt shook his head, looking at Thomas like he had just suggested that they jump off a cliff together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But why?” Thomas whined, blinking up at Newt, who sat at the desk of his room with a frown etched into his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ask Minho.” Newt answered flatly, his dark eyes still fixed on the book in front of him, barely paying any attention at all to their conversation, or at least, not obviously. Thomas took the moment to surveil him. His blonde hair was unkempt, and flopping down over his forehead and into his eyes. His round glasses balancing a little low on the bridge of his nose. His brows furrowed, fixed on the textbook he was desperately trying to read while Thomas went on distracting him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I already did-- he said no.” Thomas grumbled back, trying his best to throw puppy eyes at Newt, but ultimately failing since Newt wasn’t looking at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tom, you don’t need a date.” He said, his tone monotonous, finally glancing up at Thomas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas scrunched his nose, frowning at the shorter nickname. He hated it when Newt called him anything other than Tommy. Frankly, it felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong.</span>
  </em>
  <span> That wasn’t what he was meant to be called. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a lot of ways, when Thomas looked at Newt or Minho now, he wondered if they would still be friends if they met now. The three had become so vastly different in what felt like such a short amount of time. As children, they had run around together constantly. Had gone through so many of their major moments together. They had graduated elementary, middle and high school together, had gone to college together. They had been there for all of each others’ relationships and messy breakups. But as kids, it hadn’t mattered what they had in common. They had just been kids, and proximity was enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had met when they were five, but had gotten really close at eight, when all three were put on a representative track team. Newt had been the fastest, but he had also been the first to quit. He hadn’t had a choice really, after his injury, there was no chance of him ever being able to compete in running again. Honestly, Newt never talked much about, and neither of them really asked much. What had happened, how it’d happened was already traumatising enough (for all of them) without rehashing it. They were there for him, they were always by his side for it, but neither of them ever tried to push him to talk about it. They had only been young teenagers then though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas was the second to quit, only a year or two after Newt did. His was far more by choice. He was fast, but he had realised that he actually hated running. He hated the competitiveness, he hated the tiredness, and frankly, he enjoyed reading and writing far more than he had ever enjoyed running.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho was the last. He still ran, far more competitively than the other two had ever had a chance to. They still went to his races, almost every time. But neither Newt nor Thomas was anywhere near as invested as they had been as children. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>These days, it seemed more visible, more obvious to Thomas that they didn’t actually have that much in common besides history. Minho was an athlete through and through. He was on a track scholarship, and worked out so often that Thomas was beginning to feel tired just looking at him. He was no slouch himself, but he had none of the same commitment to it that Minho did. He always looked like he’d stepped right off the cover of some fitness magazine, and he’d gotten to be good enough with his competing that he even had enough sponsorships to always be dressed like a sporting model too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Newt had somehow turned into this confrontingly sophisticated version of himself. He always looked cooler than Thomas ever had, even now, he wore a dark turtleneck, dark slacks, and his blonde hair, messy as it was, fell in a way that looked effortlessly elegant. Even his glasses screamed of his intellect. He was a literature and fine arts major, and he looked the part. He always looked like he belonged in some dark bar, with smoke billowing around him mysteriously, probably the lead in some very artsy romantic drama.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas, on the other hand, had fallen directly into nerd territory. His science degree was challenging mentally, and he loved it, but also had nowhere near the general put-togetherness of either Minho or Newt. He had no particular aesthetic aside from comfort and in his price range, and he had none of the same confidence or style either of them did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So okay, maybe his motives for begging Newt to come to this thing with him weren’t entirely pure. Maybe it wasn’t entirely for the embarrassment of the thing. Sure, a significant part of it was that, but maybe part of it was trying to spend time with his best friend again while he still could. Before they finished college and went their separate ways and that was just the end of that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, maybe I don’t.” Thomas said slowly, “But I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>want one.” He frowned, “It’s bad enough doing this shit as a regular guest. It’s way worse going as a groomsmen -- bridesmen? -- for the bride </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>other bride, both of whom you previously dated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt looked up from his book again to laugh, and Thomas was reminded of the little kid he’d first made friends with, all fluffy hair and glasses too big for his face. He couldn’t help laughing right back at him. All of the mysterious air he’d gained over the years dissipated, leaving Thomas with the awkward and gangly brit he’d befriended before he even had all his grown up teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really cannot </span>
  <em>
    <span>believe </span>
  </em>
  <span>you agreed to go to this thing.” Newt laughed, as if it was nothing. As if it wasn’t guaranteed to be one of the weirdest days of his life. “I would’ve just outright said no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scoffed. “Minho’s already going. He said no one would ever believe that we were a couple.” He said with a frown, “And my mom will be there, since she knew them both. Can you believe that? Two of my exes invited my </span>
  <em>
    <span>freaking </span>
  </em>
  <span>mom, man. You have to understand why I cannot do this on my own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy,” His dark eyes met Thomas’, and he gave him an amused, condescending sort of smile, “Mate, you know I love you, but you’re an idiot. They already know me. I was already your best friend when you dated both of them. Your parents have known me since I had a lisp. You really think I am going to be somehow any more convincing than Minho would be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought about that!” Thomas said brightly, because actually, he had. “Teresa, Brenda and my mom have all thought we were secretly dating at one point or another.” He said with a shrug, “Obviously they’re way off base, but if they thought that before, that means they’ll believe it again. We just have to come up with a good story and be really convincing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt frowned at him. “If, and I’m not saying that I’m going to do this, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>if </span>
  </em>
  <span>I was going to do it… We’re not half assing this. If we’re going to do this, we’re committing to being the most believable bloody couple out there. You understand me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas’ grin only grew, because he could see Newt’s resolve slipping, and thank god too, because he really had no backup plan for if Newt said no.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you do this for me, Newtie, I put myself fully in your hands, you can decide everything about how we do it.” He said earnestly, his hands raised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt sighed, “Don’t call me Newtie.” He said quickly, as a first condition. “We need to establish some ground rules. A background story. A plan. Who do we let in on this and who do we let think it’s true? How do we justify them not knowing until now? And what about accommodation? Don’t you and your date have to go a few days early?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas blinked at the many questions Newt had just thrown at him, but the wide, ecstatic grin never left his face. “Um…” He floundered, trying to make heads or tails of any of Newt’s words. “Yes. A few days early, yep. The actual wedding is two weeks away and I already told them I was bringing a date, so that’s fine.” He spoke rapidly, nervously, “We’re flying out a week early to stay with my Mom for a week beforehand and then we’ll all go together to the venue, since it’s a few hours from home...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt blinked. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Tommy…” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Thomas knew that tone of voice, and he knew exactly where this was going. He recoiled a little, a nervous smile on his face. “A week before? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Next week?</span>
  </em>
  <span> And you really think we can convince her for an </span>
  <em>
    <span>entire </span>
  </em>
  <span>week that we’re a serious couple?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas grinned, “Yes, absolutely. I mean, I’m a touchy person in general, so it’s not like we’d have to change much, just a little… y’know, extra touchy.” Newt’s brows were raised at him, totally unamused. The mystique was back. Unreadable dark eyes behind thin, gold frames, his jaw locked. Thomas had no idea how Minho and Newt both looked so cool and chic now and he was still just fucking Thomas. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Twat.” Newt groaned, but turned the chair to face Thomas properly. “You owe me, Tommy. Like, ‘you owe me your firstborn child’ owe me.” He shook his head, “I cannot believe I’m agreeing to this. Y’know this ends in disaster, right?” He asked, frowning, “You could ask Fry. Or Gally. Literally </span>
  <em>
    <span>anybody </span>
  </em>
  <span>else! Hell, ask </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sonya</span>
  </em>
  <span> if you want, but how do </span>
  <em>
    <span>we </span>
  </em>
  <span>go back to being just best friends and roommates when everybody we know will think we’re a couple?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas’ brows furrowed, “First of all, ouch. I’m a freaking delight, Newton.” He huffed, “Second of all, I don’t want to ask Fry or Gally. Ew. I don’t want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>kiss </span>
  </em>
  <span>Fry or Gally. Plus, I don’t trust them as much. And everyone and their mother knows that Sonya and Harriet have been together since they were like fifteen.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt’s brows raised at Thomas, leaning back challengingly. “And what, you want to kiss me? Not that I’m not flattered, slinthead, but that is a buggin’ ridiculous way to ask me.” His tone dripped with sarcasm, like he was mocking Thomas, but didn’t actually believe it was true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes, “I’d rather kiss you than Gally or Fry.” He grumbled back with disgust, shaking his head, as if this should be blatantly obvious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Flattering as that is, I don’t particularly want to kiss you, Tommy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what? No kissing? Over a whole week and a half? Won’t that seem…?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt narrowed his eyes, and Thomas was fairly certain he was about to get smacked. It would probably be deserved, actually, because he wasn’t handling this at all well, and Newt looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>angry. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Which was fun for him, because Newt was terrifying when he was angry. He had been since he was a small child. It had been a running joke between Thomas and Minho since forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Five.” Newt said flatly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas blinked, “Five…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll kiss you five times. Over the week and a half. No more. You can choose when or where, but otherwise, we can keep it to… non-kissing PDA, alright?” Thomas thought he might actually fall over with shock. There was no way to deny it, Newt was the best friend who had ever lived. And while he was almost certainly going to embarrass Thomas by going hard on this whole thing as payback, he was still making it less awkward for Thomas, and Thomas couldn’t forget that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re… you’re an absolute angel, Newt.” Thomas said excitedly, bouncing where he knelt on the ground by Newt’s desk. He got to his feet, kissing Newt dramatically on the top of the head and turning to run off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are you going, ya muppet?” Newt called, “We still have to come up with ground rules.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, right,” Thomas answered quickly, running back into the other room and dropping back to his knees beside the desk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho was practically crying for how much he was laughing. He was folded over himself, arms crossed over his stomach, eyes squeezed shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt gave Thomas a pointed look, and Thomas could practically feel the ‘I told you so’ written all over his face. They had decided pretty easily that they would have to let Minho in on it. Both because Thomas had asked Minho first and because there was no way they’d ever be able to convince Minho of it. For starters, their plan was that in a few months (since nobody else really saw them that regularly, now that Brenda and Teresa had moved so far away), they would casually let people know they’d decided they were better as friends. That wouldn’t work with Minho, who lived with the two of them full time. What was more, Minho knew them both far too well, and neither wanted to have to pretend twenty four hours a day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Min, it’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>unbelievable! People used to ask me if we were together all the time in high school!” Thomas defended, but his words only sent Minho into another loud bout of cackling, to the point where Minho slid off the couch and onto the floor, which did nothing to stop his laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Told you it was stupid,” Newt said neutrally, shaking his head and returning to the sketchbook he had balancing on his knee, bringing his pencil back down to the page. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, no, no!” Minho interrupted, unable to fully stop himself from breaking out into laughter between each few words, “It’s not that-” gasp, “-it’s unbelievable-” gasp, “-it’s that you two are </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucked.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Any amusement faded from both Newt and Thomas’ faces, and Newt rolled his eyes, but didn’t look up from his drawing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that meant to mean, shank?” Thomas asked, nerves flipping in his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happens if they </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>believe it?” Minho asked with a bright grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why wouldn’t they believe it?” Thomas quipped back. Newt had been poignantly silent through all of this, but Thomas figured that was better than him speaking back, since he’d almost definitely agree with Minho, and Thomas just didn’t need to fight two of them about this already embarrassing experience right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I mean…” Minho gestured at Thomas and then at Newt, as if it was obvious. Thomas just raised his brows at him, annoyed and questioning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, when you were kids, y’know, it made sense. But now Newt’s got this sort of… mysterious hot guy reading in a smoky piano bar energy and you’re like… I don’t know, the weird best friend who eats pickles and who hasn’t had a haircut in way too long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas just threw a pillow at his head, which Minho dodged easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Minho didn’t stop laughing soon, Thomas was going to have to make him shut up some other way. Regardless, he continued: “I mean… Do you have any </span>
  <em>
    <span>idea </span>
  </em>
  <span>how excited everyone’s going to be if they </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>believe it? I know we don’t live near ‘em all anymore, but do you have any idea how many people we know are going to be at this wedding? Your parents, Brenda and Teresa, obviously, but then there’s also Aris, Fry, Gally, Sonya and Harriet, Jorge, Rachel, Jeff, Zart. Literally </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone </span>
  </em>
  <span>we grew up with is going. They’re all going to freak out. It’s going to break everyone’s hearts when they find out it wasn’t real.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a good point. Hell, it was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span> point. All of these people from their hometown would believe they were together, and even after they left, they would have to spread the news around that it wasn’t real. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt just stared at Thomas, who tried not to let the redness in his cheeks overwhelm him, though he could physically feel his face, neck and ears burning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We won’t have to tell everyone it was fake. We’ll just say we decided we worked better as friends. And we don’t need to tell </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone, </span>
  </em>
  <span>we only have to tell our parents and a few friends and they’ll spread it around for us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go on then,” Minho said, a grin etched into his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Newt and Thomas both asked, and Thomas wondered if Newt felt as paranoid about the question coming as Thomas himself did. It was all starting to feel very real to him, and he was wondering if he’d made a horrible mistake. But he couldn’t let on to Newt, who was already both smug and annoyed in the face of Minho’s obvious and raucous reaction to it all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You ought to practice your kissing.” He teased, a shiteating grin on his face. “If you don’t, you’re only going to be super fucking awkward about it when you gotta do it in front of everyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Slim it, Minho.” Thomas said with a tired sigh, avoiding Newt’s eyes in unexpected panic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is going to be hilarious,” It had to be the fiftieth time that day that Minho had said it, and Thomas really was ready to absolutely murder him where he stood. Sure, he loved Minho to pieces, and sure, Minho’s sense of humour was usually Thomas’ favourite thing about him, but Minho’s sarcasm and mocking was really the last thing Thomas needed right now. He already had a haircut booked in at home (did he really look like the weird pickle-eating friend?) and he was planning to go buy a suit with Minho and Newt in a few days, since neither had any that fit them at their current ages. Teresa and Brenda would be coming with them, since Minho and Thomas were both groomsmen. Or bridesmen. Was that a thing? Thomas didn’t know what he was meant to call himself, but he was panicking somewhat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Slim it, Minho.” It had to be the ninetieth time one of them had said that over the past day, but this time it was Newt, and Thomas was a little relieved that at least someone was on their side. It had been a few hours' plane ride home, and since neither Newt nor Minho’s parents still lived in the area, the three of them were all staying with Thomas’ mom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They departed the plane in awkward silence, with only Minho’s giggling occasionally penetrating the silence. Bastard was never going to let them live this down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they got onto the tarmac and made their way back into the building, Thomas turned his eyes to Minho, “If you fuck this up for us, you know I’m going to kill you, right?” He asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho grinned, “You wound me, Tom-boy, I have absolutely no desire to intercept this live entertainment in any way whatsoever.” He paused, then added, “Though, has either of you thought much about the Aris factor?” Newt sighed and Thomas groaned. Of course they had thought about it, though neither had actually been willing to bring it up. It was awkward enough as it was without having to discuss it first. Thomas’ entire plan was to play it by ear, and he sort of assumed Newt was feeling the same way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is no Aris factor.” Newt said calmly, his voice unreadably calm. He was good at that. He could be mysterious at times. Every now and then, no matter how well he knew Newt, he could see that Newt had gone to some place where Thomas couldn’t reach him. It used to scare the hell out of him, terrified that Newt would never come back from that place, but Newt was a lot better these days, and it was usually just that he needed some mental space on things. “It’s been four years, mate. Time to move on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but didn’t he--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Minho.” Newt sounded exhausted. “We all know the story, alright? We’re adults now, I’m sure we can all be civil about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah but--” Thomas elbowed Minho as they walked, and he went quiet, though the sarcastic, larrikin grin never left his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An hour later they were pulling up outside of Thomas’ mothers house, and the three of them stood there, different men than they had been when they’d moved away together four years earlier, mismatched as best friends, bags in hand. Thomas took a sharp breath. This would be so much easier without Minho there, but hey, if Minho didn’t tone down, Thomas would almost certainly murder him (if Newt didn’t first) so that might not be a problem the entire time they were visiting home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We got this.” Thomas said quickly, and the two boys at his side nodded, though he was getting totally different vibes from each other their attitudes. Newt was quiet and clearly tense, while Thomas was pretty sure he hadn’t seen Minho with so much energy since the eighth grade. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could knock though, or even get close enough to the door, it swung open and his mother stood there, grinning brightly. “Booboo!” She greeted, and Thomas immediately regretted every decision he’d ever made in his life that had led him to this point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Booboo!” Minho and Newt echoed brightly, as they had done since Thomas was a small child and they had learnt of this wildly embarrassing nickname.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My sons have returned!” She crowed dramatically, and dear god, why was it like this </span>
  <em>
    <span>every time </span>
  </em>
  <span>they visited home? He would be offended at the fact that she clearly loved Minho and Newt more than him, if he didn’t also kind of love Minho and Newt more than himself. But then all three of them were pulled into a weird, squished hug and Thomas couldn’t help the way his heart softened. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>missed his Mom. He hadn’t come home for Christmas this last year, because he knew he would be home in January for the wedding anyway, but that had made the distance since he’d last visited quite long. Seeing as Newt’s parents had moved back to England a few years earlier, and Minho’s lived on the other side of the country, the three of them basically just belonged to Mary as sons now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So!” Mary beamed as they pulled away, ushering them out of the snow and into their house. “Where’s your boyfriend, honey, I thought he was coming home with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt and Minho both shot Thomas looks, and Thomas wasn’t sure which was more outrageously confused. Newt’s definitely held a hint of panic though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mom.” He said quickly, letting out an awkward chuckle, “I already told you.” He snaked an arm around Newt’s waist, having already established this sort of contact as alright for him to initiate casually. “I’m dating Newt. Newt’s my boyfriend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes fluttered, and she blinked at all three of them in turn, then back at Newt. “Oh. Oh! Well, congratulations, boys. I’m excited for you, of course, I’m just surprised because…” She trailed off, seemingly unable to find the right words. “Well, Newt’s a very creative and handsome boy and--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas’ loud groan interrupted her, “Mom, not you too! You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>mother! You’re not supposed to be telling my boyfriend that he’s out of my league. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Or </span>
  </em>
  <span>not believing that he’s really dating me! You used to ask me if we were dating all the time!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yes.” She agreed with a nod, “But he shot up since then and--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, well, I’m going to go upstairs and hide in my closet until the wedding.” Thomas said loudly, letting go of Newt and clambering his way up the stairs, perhaps a little more childishly loud than he had to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cute, Tommy, but you already spent twenty years of your life in the closet.” Newt called. The other two erupted with laughter and Thomas stomped into his room and closed the door, immediately regretting asking Newt, regretting agreeing to the wedding, regretting coming home, regretting everything about this coming week and a half.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Thomas re-emerged a little later, annoyed but changed into more comfortable clothing, he found his mother, Chuck, Newt and Minho sitting around the living room chatting. Newt was animatedly telling the story of how they’d gotten together, which had been decided prior to them leaving and which Minho was also fully aware of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely ridiculous, really.” Newt was saying, a smile on his face, “but after years of spending every day with the shank, one of my friends asked to photograph us for a project for one of my classes… The shoot got surprisingly romantic, lots of long stares and being very close because of the shoot and how we were meant to pose, and then… Tommy admitted he’d been in love with me for years.” That had been Newt’s idea, but Thomas wasn’t really in a position to say no, since Newt was doing him a favour here. Matter of fact, they had done that photoshoot. There were photos too, just in case anyone asked. That was why it had been such a good idea. And, honestly, they </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>look pretty in love in those photos. Thomas had apparently not been too </span>
  <em>
    <span>ugly </span>
  </em>
  <span>to pretend to date Newt then, so why did everyone keep implying it now? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that’s adorable,” Mary cooed, and Chuck was grinning brightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we see some of the photos?” He asked, “As long as you’re both… y’know, dressed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas rolled his eyes fondly at his little brother as he took a seat at the table. Immediately, Minho jumped to his feet, gesturing for Thomas to take his seat beside Newt. Thomas hesitated, but then moved, dropping into the seat beside Newt, who was flicking his phone on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt, who was apparently far smarter than Thomas, had set one of the photos as his background. It was dramatic and black and white, and featured the two of them staring into each other's eyes. He had to admit that the photographer had been pretty great, because despite neither being anything close to a model, they sort of looked like models. In fact, a few people had suggested Newt go into it after, but he’d simply laughed it off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, you guys look great.” Chuck said, and he gave Thomas a beaming smile. “I can’t believe you took so long to tell us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was… a difficult thing for us,” Newt said casually, “A big shift in our relationship, y’know? And if it didn’t work out, we didn’t want to make things weird by dragging everyone into it. Even Minho didn’t know for a few weeks.” He said, glancing at Minho, who nodded vehemently. “But once we figured out that we’d stay friends no matter what happened, we decided to start letting people in on it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just glad you’re not saying he’s out of my league.” Thomas grumbled, and Newt leaned over and kissed his shoulder affectionately. He had a jumper on, so he couldn’t feel the gesture much, but a shiver ran down his spine anyway. Thomas hadn’t dated anyone for months before this, nearly a year actually, and he wasn’t used to this kind of casual affection. As a pretty tactile person, he had sort of missed it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about you, Minho?” Mary asked, “Is it weird seeing your two best friends dating like this?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho grinned, shaking his head, “Not at all, honestly. I’d sort of been waiting for it to happen forever, but after four years of living together and nothing, I’d started thinking maybe I misread the whole thing. But then this happened and well… I’m pretty sure there’s no other way it can end.” He beamed at them, and Thomas genuinely couldn’t tell whether he was acting or not at this point. Newt was good at it, but that wasn’t overly surprising, words had always been his weapon. But Minho? Thomas was surprised by how well he was doing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Honestly, Thomas was definitely the least convincing of them all, and he worried he wasn’t doing enough to seem comfortable with Newt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Actually, everyone’s apparent shock that Newt would be into Thomas was sort of unsettling, because it only reaffirmed to Thomas what he already felt. That his friends had grown up handsome, put together and charming, while Thomas had faded into mediocrity. There had been a time when all three of them were ‘popular’ kids. Nowadays, Thomas felt like a loser next to his two taller best friends. He’d been worrying for ages that neither of them would want to be his friends if they had met him now, but that shock only reminded him of why he had felt that way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love?” Thomas was shaken from his thoughts by Newt’s voice, glancing up with wide eyes at his best friend and supposed boyfriend, who looked at him with concern. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” Thomas asked, keeping his eyes on Newt and not glancing around at everyone, panic about it all rising up in his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your Mom asked if it was alright for us to share a room. She’s saying you’ve got to either share with me or Chuck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas finally glanced over at his Mom. “Is this a trick question?” He asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But… you never let me share my room with anyone I was dating. I thought you wanted to like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>protect my virtue</span>
  </em>
  <span> or whatever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tom, sweetheart, you’re a twenty-two year old in your final year of college and have lived with your boyfriend for the last four years. I know there’s no virtue left to protect.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the table burst out laughing, and Thomas felt his entire stupid body go bright red with embarrassment and awkwardness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can sleep on the floor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be an idiot, Tommy, you’ve been my best friend since we were still wetting the bed. Sharing the bed is not going to mess up this dynamic anymore than convincing all our family and friends that we’re actually in love and dating.” Newt said with a scoff. He had a way of putting things that made Thomas feel unendingly stupid for even asking the question in the first place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah, I know, but… We’re also adult men and neither of us are drunk and, like you said, everyone thinks we’re dating and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable and…” He trailed off when Newt gave him </span>
  <em>
    <span>that look. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The one that signalled to Thomas that Newt was about to throw something at him if he didn’t shut his mouth right that very second. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get into bed before I drag you in myself.” Thomas’ stomach wobbled a little in response, and he figured it was just because he was feeling so stupid and vulnerable. Sure, neither of them was straight (and sure, maybe Newt had been one of the reasons Thomas had realised that about himself), but that didn’t mean there was anything between them. It certainly didn’t mean that the prospect of being dragged into bed by Newt was something that would give Thomas butterflies. They were friends. Best friends, and there had never been anything else between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay,” Thomas held his hands up in defeat, feeling a little awkward as he pulled his sweatpants down and moved to sit on his side of the bed. It was only a double, and ideally, it would be nice if it was larger, since they were both grown men and decidedly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>a couple. “Is it… should we… clothes?” He asked helplessly, his mind going a mile a minute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, Tommy, should your mother be trying to protect your virtue?” He teased, “If you’d feel more comfortable remaining fully clothed, we can do that. If you wanna sleep like you normally do -- as long as you at least have underwear on -- that’s fine with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Thomas nodded seriously, but then found himself with no clearer idea of whether or not to take his shirt off. Newt was right, they’d shared beds before. They’d been on camping trips and had sleepovers and all sorts of other things. But that was different. They were awkward teenagers then and Thomas at least had been inexperienced and confused about his sexuality.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>These days, they hadn’t shared a bed in years and Thomas was resoundingly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not straight. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And even if he resented everyone pointing it out disbelievingly, his best friend </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>very attractive. And their dynamic of best friends had been safe for years. Thomas had </span>
  <em>
    <span>noticed </span>
  </em>
  <span>that Newt got better looking all the time, sure, but Newt had always been pretty perfect in Thomas’ eyes and he’d never wanted anything more before. He just had to remember that and not let himself get distracted by…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh…” He turned, and Newt was midway through pulling his shirt over his head, having already kicked off everything but his boxers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, shank, don’t start with that shit. We’re not going to get anywhere if you’re too awkward with me to act like a couple, alright? You’ve seen me shirtless before. It’s no different to when Gally dared me to run out in the snow in my knickers, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm.” Thomas answered, switching the light off and getting quickly into his bed, laying stiffly on the right side of the mattress and not moving any closer. Newt, on the other hand, sighed loudly as he got comfortable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Several long minutes passed, and Thomas couldn’t stop wondering if he’d made a mistake. What would happen if his body got the wrong idea about this even though his brain knew it was all fake? Newt was doing him a favour because they were friends, but Thomas had been single a long time, and Newt was… well, he was just about the best person Thomas had ever met. And Thomas might not be interested in him romantically, but hey, he was still a human man, and Newt was still… Newt. He was terrified of handling this all wrong and wrecking everything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Newt?” He whispered in the dark. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?” Came Newt’s sleepy reply after a few moments.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t going to ruin our friendship, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a soft chuckle, and Thomas was acutely aware of Newt shuffling around in the bed, trying to get comfy. Newt seemed totally unphased, totally unbothered, and Thomas reminded himself that none of this was causing any weird crises in Newt, and that Thomas was only acting weird out of nervousness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Course not, Tommy. Couldn’t lose me if you tried, mate.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look fine, Tommy.” Newt said quickly, and Thomas bit down on his lower lip. “We’re only going to get suits anyway, mate, it’s fine. Teresa and Brenda don’t care how you look, remember? They’re marrying each other; and you dated them both a million years ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas scoffed, staring at himself in the floor to ceiling mirror. Sometimes he really hated Newt, and it was times like right now. Newt sat on his bed, his blonde hair still a little damp, but falling naturally into his face. The chunky crimson jumper and black jeans he wore made him look like he belonged in some 90s English romantic comedy, and his gold rimmed glasses hung a little low on his nose, drawing attention to his long, fair lashes. He was lacing up his boots, barely looking at Thomas. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas glanced back at himself. Even in the nice black sweater and blue jeans, clothes so similar to Newt’s own, he looked ordinary and unstylish. Their outfits were so similar, and yet Newt looked like a Disney prince and Thomas looked like an extra. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had always been effortlessly cool, and the best Thomas could hope for was charmingly awkward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not just Teresa and Brenda though,” He reminded with a sigh, “It’s the whole wedding party. As in, Minho, Gally, Fry, Harriet and Sonya too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt nodded, “Yes, well, I’d be offended that I’m the only one of us that isn’t in the bridal party, but it might be a bit weird to be in my boyfriend’s ex’s wedding.” He commented, throwing Thomas a jokey wink. “Maybe they’re worried we’d steal focus.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, please. Worried </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’d </span>
  </em>
  <span>still focus, maybe.” He commented sarcastically, “Everyone thinks you’re out of my league.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shot a cocky grin at Thomas, who rolled his eyes in response. “No, but seriously… it’s a little weird to be the only one in the group who wasn’t asked. I’m not upset or anything, I just feel like I’m not meant to be there today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Course you are,” Thomas scoffed, “You’re my boyfriend to them, you should be matching me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do they not… like me, though?” He said slowly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas frowned. He actually had no good answer to why Newt was the only one not asked. Teresa had been friends with him growing up too, but she had dated Thomas and had been Minho’s lab partner for like three years. Maybe that was why. Still, he had no good answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They like you.” He asserted quickly, “I mean… they </span>
  <em>
    <span>clearly </span>
  </em>
  <span>do. You’ve always been a part of the group. But you’re prettier than either of them, maybe they didn’t wanna be shown up.” He suggested, only partly joking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt snorted, shaking his head as he laced up the second boot, “Keep saying shit like that and I’ll have to keep you forever, Tommy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas wouldn’t have complained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, the process of going out that morning was awkward. Thomas had let Teresa and Brenda know Newt was his date (and his boyfriend) and the two had given surprisingly minimal responses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho was the most muscular of the three, so naturally, he was the most excited to get his new suit. Thomas was worried he’d look shit and Newt was panicking that the girls didn’t like him, so between them, Minho was the only one exuding any confidence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had breakfast with the family, and there was only minimal teasing about Thomas unkempt hair, which they were attributing to Newt, but which really just came from Thomas being shit at doing his hair. Newt had told him fondly that he’d do it for him in the future, and Thomas tried not to let his mind wander. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time they got to the place, Thomas was a little nervous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt took his hand, Minho smirked, and the three walked in together, the bell over the door dinging to alert everyone of their arrival. It was a nice place, which seemed to sell both suits and formal and bridal dresses, and there were wide comfy looking couches in the centre of the room, positioned around a little circle platform, which faced a wall of mirrors. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the couches sat his friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brenda, Teresa, Gally, Fry, Harriet and Sonya. All of them looked straight at Newt and Thomas’ joined hands. Every single one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sonya broke the ice. “Everyone except Harriet and Fry owes me ten bucks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit,” Teresa muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See?” Harriet chirped proudly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Incredible.” Brenda snorted, a smirk pulling at one side of her mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, hello to you too, you scavengers.” Newt said easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope,” Gally said quickly, turning to Sonya, “I still don’t buy it, sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t buy what?” Minho asked, the amusement painfully clear on his face. He was loving this, and that’d make Thomas angry if he wasn’t too busy being uncontrollably anxious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We took bets on whether or not it was a joke that you were together.” Sonya told them proudly. Her accent was far less pronounced than Newt’s, but Thomas often thought Newt’s accent had stuck around by sheer force of will, given how long he’d lived in America. Newt didn’t want to be an American, and really, he still radiated English energy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would it be a joke?” Newt asked, scoffing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gally snorted in response, shaking his head like it was too obvious a question to even deserve an answer. “I mean… Thomas looks like he lives in a two storey walk-up in a bad neighbourhood and hasn’t left his room in seven to nine days because he was reading conspiracy theories on the internet and Newt looks like a modern Hugh Grant.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas stopped dead, blinking. Had he really gotten so slobby in only a few years that it was so unbelievable to all his loved ones that Newt might want him? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt squeezed his hand, and since no one could see it, Thomas took it as a reassurance specifically designed for him. The others laughed, but Newt cleared his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, well, I can clear this up right now. We’re together. Proper together. The jokes can end, ‘cause Tommy’s always been gorgeous. Half this bloody circle’s dated him if you don’t recall.” Thomas wasn’t sure that last part was helping his case any, but he didn’t have time to consider it much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just like that, Newt turned to the side, grabbed Thomas confidently by the back of the neck, and leant down into an unexpected but surprisingly not unwelcome kiss. Thomas and Newt had agreed on five kisses, distributed whenever one of them thought it was important. Maybe this one was to help Thomas to save face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Either way, all thoughts of his judgemental friends were wiped clean when Newt slipped him the tongue, evidently intent on making it as believable as possible. Thomas reminded himself it wasn’t real, repeated a mantra in his head about how Newt was his best friend, and Thomas could not afford to muddy it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took every fibre of his being not to absolutely melt into the contact. Melt into the kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt wasn’t holding back in any way, yanking Thomas tight against him, one hand still on his neck and the other tight on his hip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas might not be into Newt, but he also wasn’t stupid enough to lose this moment. Newt was gorgeous, and now he knew for sure he was a good kisser, and hey, Thomas wasn’t complaining. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Newt who pulled back, and good thing too, because Thomas, dazed and red faced, would’ve let it go on forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried hard to forget the details. Forget Newt’s soft lips. Forget the feeling of his fingers on Thomas’ hips, gripping him tightly, holding him in place. Forget the feeling of being pressed against him… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ten bucks.” Sonya reiterated, making grabby hands at Gally, who rolled his eyes and muttered that he’d transfer it to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, everybody. Here’s how this is going to work. We’re going to split into teams,” Teresa began, “Thomas, Minho, Fry, you’re with me. Gally, Harriet, Sonya and Newt, you’re with Bren. You guys get to see our wedding dresses and then you’re going to get fitted for your suits. We already had your measurements, but we’ve been assured any alterations will be able to be done by the wedding. Everyone clear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do we have assigned pee breaks too?” Fry asked sarcastically, and Teresa levelled him a warning glare. He went quiet quickly. He loved Teresa, but god was she a Bridezilla. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or was that an offensive term now? Thomas didn’t begrudge her that, wanting a perfect wedding, but she was a little drunk on power. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt shot Thomas a nervous look, and Thomas remembered he was nervous they didn’t want him here. He took Newt’s hand and lifted it to his lips, selling it. Then, leaning into Newt’s ear, he whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll be alright, promise. Thanks for defending me, by the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt shot him a little smile, but he looked so unsure that Thomas’ heart ached a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, lovebirds.” Brenda said, squeezing Newt’s shoulders. “Teresa will take good care of Tommy, promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone knew it was a mistake. Thomas wasn’t even sure why she’d done it, except to screw with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only he calls me Tommy.” It was quick. An instinctive, obvious reaction that he couldn’t placate. He didn’t let anyone else call him that. Not even his mother or brother. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Only </span>
  </em>
  <span>Newt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a laugh from the group and Thomas sighed, realising he’d been played. Maybe they’d even made a bet on that. He was feeling increasingly more like a joke as this went along, and it was only their first wedding activity. Still, anyone but Newt calling him Tommy was wrong. Even his family didn’t broach that barrier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Regardless, Newt gave his shoulder a squeeze, got up and followed Brenda away. He had the horrible feeling they were getting broken apart and questioned, people maybe not believing it or at least wanting more details, but hey? If that was what Teresa and Brenda wanted, so be it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright!” Teresa was all beaming and excited. “Do we wanna do the suits or the dress first?” She asked. Fry, Minho and Thomas all answered something completely different at the same time, so she rolled her eyes. “Boys.” She scoffed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if we all do it at the same time?” Minho suggested. “Like, we all get dressed and we come out and show the suits and dress together?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but then we can’t give Teresa all the attention on her dress. I reckon the group of us should go first and put on our suits, then we can come show Teresa and then she can do the big reveal with her dress, yeah?” Fry argued, shaking his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm, I changed my mind, we’re going to go one by one.” Teresa said quickly. “Minho, you’re up first, off you go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho got to his feet and ran off, leaving Thomas alone with Teresa and Frypan. He knew he’d be in for it at any second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>time.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>She said as soon as Minho was gone, her blue eyes locked on Thomas with so much intensity he wanted to shrink away. “I mean, really, I was beginning to wonder if you’d missed your opportunity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” Thomas was almost pouting, and he could feel it. “What? Is this another like… oh, he’s so much better than me thing? Because I get it! Really, I get it! Everyone thinks he’s out of my league.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snorted and shook her head, “No, it’s not that, it’s more like…” She shot a sidelong glance at Frypan, who was staring at his phone intently, “Hey, Fry, why don’t you go put yours on too? You and Minho can show ‘em off together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fry seemed confused, but shrugged and walked off. Everyone knew not to argue with Teresa about all of this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s more like,” She went on, “We thought you were never going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>notice </span>
  </em>
  <span>that you were in love with him. I mean, come on, man, the two of you have been together since you were like, twelve, you just didn’t know it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas could feel his eyes bugging out of his head. Was Newt dealing with this shit too? “No. No, we weren’t. I mean, hell, I dated </span>
  <em>
    <span>both </span>
  </em>
  <span>you and Brenda in high school and college, remember? I know you’re all happy together now, but I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>clearly </span>
  </em>
  <span>not—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm,” She nodded, her tone and expression condescending, “Right. Yeah. You did. You dated us both. And we both dumped you. Do you know why? Because I know why.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you were in love with each other…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, dipshit. I loved you. So did she. Honestly, both of us did. But… there were always three people in the relationship. We both knew you’d never, ever look at either of us like you did him.” She paused, then added, “Also, you know; we were in love with each other.” They both laughed, but Thomas felt lightheaded and embarrassed. “I’m serious, Tom. He was your number one. We were… both fed up of coming in second to your best friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas sat quietly for a moment, pondering this. He couldn’t rebuff it, because he was meant to be dating Newt, but all of this was news to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” He bounced in place, suddenly realising something, “Is that why Newt isn’t in the bridal party?” He asked. “He thinks you don’t like him.” He snapped a hand over his mouth, realising he probably shouldn’t have asked that. That Newt probably didn’t want him to say that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes widened, “Oh shit, no, of course we like him. Just that he was always more your friend than ours and… well, we both sorta thought he didn’t like us. Plus, y’know, even numbers.” She explained. “But I mean, we were planning to suggest that you two dance together for the first dance anyway and one of the boys can pick someone else to bring up. We want him involved. Especially now he’s with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded slowly, “That’d be nice.” He admitted, not knowing what to say to the rest of it. “So… wait, how long did you think I’d been into him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teresa blinked at him, “I don’t know. I don’t know if I always thought you were in love with him or not, but I definitely always thought no one would ever be more important to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That much was probably true. No one was even close to Newt or Minho in his mind, other than maybe Chuck. Teresa and Brenda and Fry and the rest were good friends too— he did care about them all. But they weren’t Minho or Newt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh.” He said quietly, “I’ll have to tell him he inadvertently broke us up.” He commented, trying to tie it all up with a joke, however awkward it felt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snorted, “Not sure how inadvertent it was.” She told him with a half smile, “I think he’d have gotten rid of us then if he could’ve.” She teased. “Only person more obvious than you was him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes, “Pfft. Ten minutes ago Gally was telling me Newt was out of my league and now suddenly he was obviously in love with me in high school? I call bullshit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” She grinned, and Thomas felt like he was about to get snagged in whatever trap this was, “To be fair, there was a time when you and Minho were the buff, popular kids and Newt was sort of your sarcastic, slightly awkward friend. Then he had a growth spurt and started dressing himself properly and you… well, stopped doing those things.” She teased. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas rolled his eyes, “Alright, jeez. I get it. My friends are hot and I’m a slob. I know, I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not a slob,” She ruffled his hair, “You need a haircut and some new clothes if you want to keep your man though.” She was only teasing, he knew, but he felt insecurity settle deep in his stomach. Was that really the way they looked? That Minho and Newt were so put together and good at things and Thomas was their slobby best friend who couldn’t dress himself?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait— Newt wasn’t weird in high school.” He argued, shaking his head. “I mean, hell, he had his fair share of admirers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She raised her brows, “With you leading that charge.” She agreed, “Yeah, that’s true. But your appeal was more… </span>
  <em>
    <span>obvious. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Especially in high school, where everyone’s in it for the obviously hot guy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas blinked at her. “Okay, ouch. I’m feeling very objectified.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure what was worse, being the </span>
  <em>
    <span>obviously hot </span>
  </em>
  <span>guy or the slobby best friend. Either way, it seemed like the end result was that he was basic and unworthy of Newt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Considering he had known this when he asked Newt to fake date him and had even thought it consciously himself, it still hurt to hear it. And he found that he cared. He had no good reason, they weren’t a couple, and Thomas didn’t have feelings for Newt (no matter what anyone said), but still… Why did it hurt so much that everyone thought Newt was so out of his league?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did Newt think so too?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time it was him in the fitting room, Thomas spent a little too long examining himself in the mirror.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, he thought, maybe his jaw wasn’t as sharp as it used to be. Maybe he didn’t have quite the athlete’s body he used to. But he still worked out, he was still fit. He looked tired, and his facial hair was shotty, and he was due a haircut weeks ago, but all those things were pretty surface level, right? The good parts were still down there somewhere, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he returned in his suit, he was met with cheers from Teresa and a wolf whistle from Minho, and his spirits were picking back up a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn, Tom, you got a dumptruck!” Minho yelled, obviously teasing, and Thomas sort of sarcastically shook his hips at the group before dropping down into the seat. Apparently all of them were meant to be dressed at once. Thomas’ suit needed a little adjustment, but nothing much, so he stood getting it pinned while they waited for Teresa to return in her dress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she did, she was absolutely stunning. A vision. She looked like some statue goddess presiding over them all on her little podium, and Thomas figured she’d picked the absolute perfect thing. She was stunning, and this was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to come dateless. He hadn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>wanted to go at all, but how could he say no? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wished he had Newt by his side now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas stared up at the ceiling, wishing he had any idea what to say. He sort of wanted to broach it, but he knew he couldn’t. It was weird and awkward and it didn’t matter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think you’re out of my league?” Thomas whispered awkwardly in the dark, staying rigid to avoid touching Newt beneath the blankets and making things weird. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt chuckled casually, and Thomas felt embarrassed for even asking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forget it, stupid question, this is all fake and—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re fucking with you, Tommy.” He said easily, rolling over so he faced Thomas. Thomas couldn’t see him in the dark, but somehow he shivered under his gaze regardless. “No one really thinks that, they’re just taking the piss out like we used to when we were younger. You used to fight back more, mate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scoffed, “Yeah, but they all believe it,” He grumbled. “Even Teresa said it. That I used to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>obviously hot </span>
  </em>
  <span>or something but now you’re out of my league.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt was quiet in the dark, but Thomas was sure he felt the bed moving with laughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Found out why they were weird with you, by the way,” Thomas spoke again, and the laughter ceased, Newt’s silence letting an obvious tension take over as Newt waited. “They thought you hated them because they thought you were into me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard Newt choke on air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, right? Absolutely ridiculous.” Thomas shook his head. “Anyway; just thought you’d wanna know that they don’t hate you and that you inadvertently caused this wedding.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, how did I cause the wedding?” Newt asked, his tone unreadable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, apparently they both dumped me because they felt like they’d always be second to you. Weird, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas rolled over and got comfortable, but Newt didn’t speak another word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the week went by without much of a hitch. They hung out with Thomas’ family. Newt and Thomas held hands. They kept arms around each other and Newt had taken to calling Thomas ‘love’ or ‘my love’, which Thomas had to admit, made his heart melt a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One night, they all went out for dinner and Thomas and Newt had to listen to his mother make a little speech about how perfect they were together and always had been. Newt seemed somewhere between amused and nervous, but Thomas felt guilty for lying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho thought it was the funniest thing that’d ever happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But lo and behold, the week ended and it was time to move to the hotel. They had things planned, from a bachelorette (that the whole group would be at), to dress rehearsals and then the wedding itself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a bit extravagant, really, but it was fine. Thomas could use the time off college and Newt seemed to be having fun. Plus, it was nice to be around home again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nice for Thomas to walk down the streets of his childhood beside Minho (who always looked like a professional athlete or celebrity) and Newt (who always looked like a model and romantic lead) and forget for a minute that they weren’t kids anymore, and that he’d almost certainly lose them to their much nicer, cooler lives. They’d find new friends. Newt would meet a man. Minho would date. They’d have couples games nights and Thomas would be their weird outsider friend who didn’t fit in in their nice flat anymore and didn’t have a partner to bring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This hotel is too nice for us.” Thomas commented awkwardly, Newt snorted at his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mate, you gotta stop panicking, right? I warned you not to go to the wedding of your two ex girlfriends getting married, but you didn’t listen to me. So now, you’re just going to have to steer into pretending to date me and stop freaking out about it.” He clapped Thomas on the shoulder. “I mean, everyone believes it. Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Yeah, I guess. It’s just… weird, I guess. How easily some people believe and how completely other people disbelieve it, it’s… I don’t really know what I’m meant to feel about any of it.” He admitted, unusually shy about it all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt snorted, “You’re getting in your head, Tommy. None of it has to mean anything. People have a lot of stupid opinions, and even so, we’re not actually together, remember?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He frowned, “Yeah, I know, but they’re still my real friends. And I didn’t know they had any of these opinions. I mean, I knew I’d had people ask if we were a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>before, but I had no idea how deep this random topic ran.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt sighed, closing the hotel door behind them both and ushering Thomas inside, sitting on the huge bed in the centre of the room and waiting for Thomas to join him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re letting them get to you,” Newt said seriously, looking Thomas directly in the eyes, “We knew it was going to be a… challenging week. These are all the people we grew up with and we barely see them anymore. Plus, tensions are always high around weddings. Teresa and Brenda are your friends, I know, but they did also both date you. There are… feelings twisted up in this, whether people want to acknowledge them or not.” He put a hand on Thomas’ cheek, a smirk on his face that made Thomas feel like he was about to get teased. He tried not to react. “Besides, all the jokes about you punching above your weight aren’t as bad as you think. Would you rather be here with someone and them think nothing of it, or have you here with someone and everyone be all impressed about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re loving this, aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt shrugged, “It’s not doing terrible things for my ego. But you didn’t answer my question?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I mean… I guess I would rather everyone be all impressed. It’s less pathetic, considering the history.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly.” Newt nodded, “And now it’s not like you missed out on them, it’s like you found your own romantic-ass childhood sweethearts story.” He commented with a slight smirk. “And no one suspects a thing. Even Minho’s doing a great job with all the lying. Best possible outcome here, mate.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, yeah.” Thomas agreed, “Yeah, but… I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A slow smile spread across Newt’s face. “For what it’s worth, I would totally date you,” He patted him on the shoulder again, got to his feet and walked off towards the hotel bathroom, leaving Thomas totally reeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hours passed, and Thomas was no more clear on what the fuck had happened in the room. Newt was saying it to be nice, right? It was just a joke because Thomas’ feelings were obviously hurt. Of course Newt wouldn’t be serious. After like eighteen years of friendship, he couldn’t seriously just be casually dropping into conversation that he would date Thomas. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Absolutely not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Furthermore, why the hell did Thomas </span>
  <em>
    <span>care</span>
  </em>
  <span> whether or not Newt was serious. If he was, it wouldn’t matter, right? Thomas wasn’t trying to sleep with Newt. Or date Newt. Or… not seriously, anyway. So why was he suddenly so damn nervous? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were meant to be doing their joint bachelorette thing, and they were on some group bus, and there were blaring lights and loud, aggressive music playing and all Thomas could think about was that stupid comment. Newt sat on the other end of the bus, laughing brightly with Gally about some joke that Thomas couldn’t hear, but he felt hyper aware of him suddenly. Like he was keeping tabs on him without his conscious consent, constantly glancing up when he noticed Newt laughing loudly or batting balloons around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was sure someone would notice, but it wouldn’t matter if anyone but Minho did really. Alas and alack, Minho was the most attuned to what they were normally like with each other, so he was the most likely to notice Thomas acting… off. Or desperate. Or whatever the fuck this actually was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho was watching though, Thomas could see it on his face. He’d noticed, because of course he had. Thomas just had to put off having a conversation until after the wedding and then everything could just go totally back to normal and nobody had to question why Thomas was suddenly finding it hard not to look at his best friend all the time. Shit </span>
  <em>
    <span>would </span>
  </em>
  <span>go back to normal. All of this was just confusing him. Held hands and pet names and… that </span>
  <em>
    <span>kiss. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Thomas was just confused. But nothing had actually changed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re kidding?” He heard Minho ask beside him with a loud laugh, and his attention was finally snapped out of his thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, but I’m not,” Came Sonya’s sarcastic and proud reply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Male or female?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Both.” Sonya answered with a grin. “Brendaresa put me in charge. That was their mistake. So now this is happening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, what?” Thomas intercepted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Strippers, bud.” Minho said with a raucous laugh, “Strippers.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas’ blood ran cold and his eyes darted around, panicky. He’d never been good with things like this anyway, but the whole lie and all the other context made it all way, way weirder. His eyes immediately flicked over to Newt, who was none the wiser to it all, but he felt worried for him too. Newt had never been any great fan of strangers getting too close to him, and that was basically the point of a lap dance. Plus, since Thomas and Newt were the new couple to torment, he had a terrible feeling one of them would be a specific and purposeful target. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What was more, and he hated to admit it, but he really didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>someone else to give Newt a lap dance. He wasn’t willing to unpack any of that now, but he was a little on edge about it all nonetheless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When?” He asked. He must’ve looked nervous, based on the amused looks on Sonya and Minho’s faces. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, Tom, you’re not going to lose your man,” Minho told him, and honestly, Thomas wasn’t sure whether he was acting along or </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>teasing Thomas. Maybe both. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re going to a nice restaurant where we have a private room and a few strippers,” Sonya told him with a grin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do they know?” Thomas asked, to which Sonya grinned widely and shook her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next part of the drive went by in a blur, and as soon as they got off the bus, Thomas tried to make his way to Newt, instinctively reaching out to grab his hand. Gally got between them though, and batted Thomas’ hand away. “Oi, Greenie, you have him year round, the lot of you are never home, it’s our turn.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy.” Newt said quickly, “We’re just talking, I’ll see you later tonight, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas couldn’t really protest any further, not when Newt had basically dismissed him. He’d only been trying to warn, but hey, if Newt didn’t want to hear it, there wasn’t much he could do about that. And if Newt got a lap dance from a stranger… so be that too, he guessed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if it set his teeth on edge a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The night went ahead anxiously for him, and he had a few drinks quite quickly if even just to prepare himself for the oncoming awkwardness. He was barely listening, and people kept teasing him about it, asking him if he was too focused on Newt. Embarrassing as it was, it wasn’t entirely untrue. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> focused on Newt. And honestly, he wasn’t entirely sure why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then it was all happening, lights going down, music playing loud, two men and women entering the room, one of them immediately seeming to zero in on Newt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas wondered whether or not someone had purposely sent the guy after Newt in the hope of getting a reaction out of Thomas. They were the new couple amongst the group of childhood friends, and they’d been poking at Thomas since he got back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt caught Thomas’ eyes, and though neither of their expressions changed, Thomas felt like there was a whole conversation going back and forth. Thomas wanted to yell.</span>
  <em>
    <span> I tried to warn you! You waved me away! </span>
  </em>
  <span>But Newt was looking at Thomas and Thomas was pretty sure the look was, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I get it, you told me so, now hurry up and help me! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And while Thomas didn’t want to get involved, in any way, he knew he had to. What was worse… him getting involved meant him embarrassing himself. But Newt had done this to help him, and Newt was his best friend, and goddamnit, he really wasn’t enjoying watching someone virtually grind up against him. He’d like to be smug about it, but his own discomfort was only growing as Newt’s did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, knowing he would get roasted about it for the rest of time, he skidded across the room towards Newt, taking a moment of uncomfortable gyration from the mostly naked dancer as an opportunity. He slid between the man and Newt, sitting on Newt’s lap quickly, as though this were a totally normal thing to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed fakely, shook his head, “Sorry, man, this one’s spoken for.” He said quickly, not even bothering to try to come up with any good excuse. He sounded fake. That was fine though, because he sounded </span>
  <em>
    <span>jealous. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And jealousy was believable enough in this scenario. His only defence was that he was meant to be in love with Newt, so that was what he was going to use. And if he got teased forever, then so be it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As far as sitting in Newt’s lap went… he could deal with the panic about that later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard his friends booing or cheering for the moment. It was obviously what they had wanted, but they weren’t going to let Thomas embarrass himself alone, oh no, they were going to make it far worse by taking note and getting involved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Minho, though, who really stabbed Thomas in the back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pfft— are you going to give him a lap dance instead then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frankly, the second the words left his mouth, Thomas knew he was completely and totally screwed. Now that his friends had heard it, there was no unhearing it. This was absolutely and unequivocally what was going to need to happen in order for Newt to get off scot free. And, well, in order for him not to have to watch Newt get a lap dance. Though, really, it was easier to just pretend to ignore that one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>More of them were cheering now, and maybe Thomas could’ve ascertained who shouted what if his heartbeat wasn’t thundering in his ears like a death march. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A fucking lap dance? Thomas was not particularly rhythmically gifted, and while he had been known to dance a lot when drunk, sobriety was a whole other thing. He eyed Newt with panic, and while he read empathy in his best friend’s eyes, there was no defence. Really, what could Newt say? Surely this would be just as awkward for him as for Thomas. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When no one offered him any reprieve from this waking nightmare, he sighed, nodded. “Okay, fine! But if I’m doing this, I’m going to need a bottle of some kind of spirit first.” He said, only leading to more cheers from his friends. Someone definitely slapped him on the back too, but he barely noticed. He was busy staring into the abyss, trying not to let his obvious fear be too apparent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If the ground could open up and swallow Thomas whole, he would go absolutely willingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a snort and a grin, Gally handed him a bottle of vodka, which Thomas took several long, ill advised swigs of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, wait—” He heard Brenda begin, and he prayed she was going to stop this from happening, “Is this a lap dance or a strip tease? Different things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas needed new friends. Thomas needed new friends yesterday. He was going to murder his existing ones without thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>People were shouting things and Thomas wasn’t listening. He turned to straddle Newt, who looked up at him with a completely unreadable expression that only made the whole thing ten times scarier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned down closer, wanting to whisper something in Newt’s ear, but he realised he had no idea what he wanted to say. There were about a million thoughts flying through his mind and he could make sense of none of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” He managed, his voice breather than he expected. “But also, uh, you’re welcome.” He had to pull back, but he knew everyone was watching and so, by way of some small explanation, he placed a chaste kiss against Newt’s neck, just below his ear. Newt shivered, and Thomas tried not to look too guilty about doing it without asking. They had had guidelines, but their guidelines had not accounted for impromptu lap dances or strip teases or whichever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could feel cameras on him, could feel eyes on him, could hear people cheering, and Thomas regretted every decision he’d ever made, but it was more embarrassing to turn around and now admit that it was all fake (and yet he’d still intercepted the lap dance). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so, feeling like he might vomit, Thomas began to try to dance. Or at least, copy what the other dancer had been doing. The man had far better rhythm, and also a far better body, but Thomas was trying not to think about that. He tried not to think about much, except for his slightly gratuitous dancing and Newt’s flushed face. Thomas knew he was probably just awkward, but at least, as he gyrated his hips and pretended to know what the fuck he was doing, it looked like Thomas was having any effect at all on Newt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t bring himself to look at anyone else, but he also sort of didn’t want to. His dark eyes remained locked on Newt, completely unable to read his expression, but taking it in nonetheless. Newt’s eyes didn’t leave him either, but he watched as they ran down the length of his body, back up to his lips and then finally back to his eyes. Inspired (or something), he brought his free hand up to card through Newt’s fluffy blonde hair, pushing it back off his face in what he hoped would at least look like a sensual gesture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was undeniably one of the worst things he’d ever done, and he was sure it was more awkward than sexy, but hey, he was doing what he had to do to keep their stupid lie alive, and really, it might be worse for Newt than him. At least Thomas had something to do with his body. Newt just sat stiffly, looking like he had no idea what he was meant to do with himself. His face was bright red, and he looked like he might be biting back laughter, but Thomas couldn’t say for sure, and frankly, he didn’t think he wanted to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Figuring he had to do more, Thomas passed the bottle of vodka off to the person on his right (though he had no idea who that was, he hadn’t looked away from Newt in several minutes and everything else seemed sort of insignificant), and, his embarrassment thoroughly drowning in alcohol, he pulled his shirt up over his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kept on swinging his hips in what was meant to be a seductive way as he did, figuring confident and awkward was far better than just plain awkward. At least this way, he could be funny if nothing else. Still, Newt seemed less amused than before now, and while his face was still a little flushed, the hint of red visible on his neck and up his cheeks, his eyes seemed to catch on Thomas’ now exposed abdomen, hands reaching up to rest on Thomas’ hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas’ hands went to the buckle of his belt, but Newt’s hands caught his, stopping him from going further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas stopped, worried he had done something wrong, but before he could even think to ask what Newt was doing, he felt fingers digging into his bare hips, and he had been yanked back down into Newt’s lap. He had no idea what to expect when his lips were caught in a heated kiss. Newt’s lips were feverish on his, and his arms slid around Thomas like vices, holding him close against Newt. Thomas did nothing to protest. His tongue felt burned and fuzzy from all the straight gulps of spirits, and he still felt a little amped from the stupid strip tease he’d been doing, but it hardly mattered now, because there was nothing else in the world besides Newt, and his hands and his lips and the little noise he made against Thomas’ mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again, it was Newt who pulled away from the kiss first. He broke away from Thomas and, without thinking at all, Thomas chased his lips, catching one, two, three more kisses before Newt turned his face away, letting out a nervous chuckle. “We’re in public, love.” He commented quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever alcohol and stripping induced spell he’d been under was instantly broken, and he looked around at his friends with poorly suppressed humiliation on his face. People were whooping and whistling, and Thomas thought his heart might fall out his mouth if he let himself think about this all too much. They hadn’t even eaten dinner yet, and he’d already made out with his best friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” He whispered, barely audible, in Newt’s direction. Newt simply helped him to slide back into his own seat, but snaked an arm around his waist, keeping Thomas close at his side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned into Thomas’ ear. His words sounded breathless, maybe a little giggly, and very quiet. “Thought you might like an out from having to get completely naked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two. Thomas woke up in the morning with the awful dawning realisation that Newt had given him five kisses over the course of a week and a half to help sell the act, and they’d already used two. Before the rehearsal dinner or first dance or anything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was embarrassing enough, of course, without Thomas remembering that one of those kisses had been spent because Thomas, idiot that he was, had gotten too into his stupid fake strip tease. Or not fake, he supposed, because he did actually do it. Albeit poorly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worst part, he was sure, was how he had forgotten it was fake. For a minute there, with Newt’s hands on him and his tongue in Newt’s mouth, he had completely forgotten that they weren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>a couple, and that Newt didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>want to kiss him. Now he was waking up, head pounding, beside his best friend, whom he had made out with the previous night after thrusting stupidly in his direction. Wonderful. This wedding was shaping up to be the worst day of his life, and it hadn’t even happened yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt was already awake, quietly sketching on his side of the bed, sitting calmly. His gold-rimmed glasses were back, and his hair was unkempt in a frustratingly attractive way, and Thomas had no fucking clue what was going on, because since when did he think of Newt that way. He knew he was attractive, obviously, but he didn’t usually sit around admiring his bed hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shuck, that’s two down already,” He groaned, unsurprised by how achey his limbs felt and how crackly his voice sounded. “I feel like I ran a freaking marathon last night, dude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt snorted, but didn’t look up. “It’s because alcohol dehydrates you.” He said softly, “The nutrients strip out of your muscle to sustain you and leave your muscles feeling sore, heavy and painful.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas blinked at him, ignoring the unusual urge he had to touch Newt’s soft hair again. “How the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>do you know that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not the only smart one, Tommy.” He said casually, continuing his drawing thoughtlessly. Thomas had grown used to not sticking his nose into Newt’s art. He could be very touchy about it, particularly when he wasn’t finished. It was usually better to wait for him to show you of his own accord than to ask him or just try to sneak a peek. Newt rarely ever got really mad at Thomas, but when he did, this was usually why. “Three.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said it was two down already. I’m assuming you mean the allotted five kisses. It was actually three.” He seemed so unphased that Thomas almost felt embarrassed for how it haunted his mind. For how badly he wanted to close the space between them and kiss Newt again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When the hell did the third one happen?” Thomas asked, distraught. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dark eyes finally flicked up, and the corner of Newt’s mouth quirked up into a smirk. Adorable and hot, Thomas decided. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really don’t remember? The guy at the bar?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was the ghost of a memory, but nothing stable. He shook his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t remember a guy trying to give me his number? You don’t remember what you did?” He was outright smirking now, and Thomas wasn’t sure how embarrassed to feel. Embarrassment was becoming his entire personality at this point. He wondered if he’d ever live it down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dear god, if you’ve ever been my friend, Newtie, tell me that I didn’t embarrass myself </span>
  <em>
    <span>worse </span>
  </em>
  <span>after I’d already given a lap dance in front of everybody?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head fondly, closing his book and scooting closer. “Oh no, don’t worry, I don’t know if it’s even possible to outdo that dance.” He grinned, “That was the stuff of legends. No, what happened is that a man kept hitting on me and trying to give me his number, and when he got a little too handsy, you got right in the middle and snogged me.” A bright smile, like this was the funniest thing ever, and Thomas felt like he had somehow fallen into the deepest pits of hell. Surely, he had done something awful in a past life to deserve this shit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Excellent. I’m never drinking again.” He groaned, dropping back into the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt leaned over and patted his head fondly. Thomas hated how badly he wanted Newt to keep touching his hair. “It’s okay. It was hilarious and you should definitely do it again.” He said warmly, making Thomas snort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Give you a lap dance? Never knew you saw me that way,” He teased, tone reeking of sarcasm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah,” Newt scoffed, “Didn’t you know? All I do is lay awake at night thinking about how badly I wanted my best friend who once fell asleep with his head in my birthday cake to grind on me in front of my sister and all my friends.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas nodded solemnly, “That makes sense. I am an irresistible sex machine.” He said as seriously as he could muster while saying something so stupid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt got out of bed and made his way towards the bathroom, dramatically rolling his eyes. “I’m going to shower. You should go see if you can get breakfast before it closes.” He suggested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas, who felt a bit ill, figured food could be just what he needed. But when he swung the door open, Sonya stood there. She grinned. Thomas wondered how her smile could be too bright for his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” She beamed, “I was looking for my brother, but I hear the shower running, so you’ll do. Can we chat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas nodded, wondering if he was about to get threatened by a very small blonde who could absolutely kill him if she really wanted to. Particularly with Harriet’s help. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She led him back towards breakfast and he followed, glad for the excuse to get food. It was nearly ten and closed soon, so he figured everyone else had been. Especially based on how Newt had talked about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they were sat down and Thomas had bacon and coffee in front of them, Sonya started talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you doing this?” She asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinked, confused. “Sorry, Son, do what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look… you and me, we’ve known each other forever, right? Since I was three? I mean, you’re like my own brother at this point?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas didn’t know where this was going, but he was afraid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… level with me. Why are you and Newt pretending to be together?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas balked. How the fuck did she know that? They had decided not to let Sonya and Chuck in on it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you do. And if I didn’t already know, your face just gave it away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, Thomas. I’m sure… I’m sure that you both have the absolute best intentions here. Best friends pretending to be dating… I’m guessing either for a bet or for a favour. It’s cute, really. But… I’m worried one of you is seeing this as a… game between friends and one of you is actually going to catch feelings.” Thomas blinked. Had he been so obvious? “And I don’t think anyone wants anyone else to get hurt, but… just, like… be careful, will you? Make sure nobody’s getting their hopes up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They went on talking afterwards, casual and friendly. Sonya was right, she was like a little sister to him too. He loved her dearly, and would consider her a good friend. But everything she’d said was repeating in his brain over and over again, unavoidable and inexplicable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How could Sonya know? He felt like he was being </span>
  <em>
    <span>warned. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Like Sonya was trying to tell him not to go catching feelings when Newt was simply doing him a favour. It was true. She knew them both so well, maybe she knew Thomas was… changing how he saw Newt. Maybe she knew he didn’t feel the same. Maybe she even knew Newt was with someone else. The thought was like a pinch in his chest. But had no right over Newt and all he really wanted was for the boy to be happy. He could go back to the way the world was before. He could improve things. Return to a time where Newt was simply his best friend, and he wasn’t dying to throw himself back into Newt’s arms like a pathetic scene from an Old Hollywood romance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t matter that he knew now. Knew how his heart fluttered when Newt’s eyes ran down to his lips. Knew how it felt to be held so tightly in his arms. Knew what it was like to kiss him, full of burning liquor and passion. He could live with that. For his sanity, he had to live with that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Sonya had basically just given him a heads up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas had to get a grip on himself, before he ruined the best thing in his life. Two more times. He would only ever get to kiss Newt two more times. Then, he would return to his life, watch Newt find someone else, and try his best not to compare every man or woman in the world to his best friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe Teresa had been right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he saw his friends again, he was met with wolf whistles and relentless mocking. He tried not to care, giving a dramatic curtsy when he first saw them. Still, it was embarrassing and he was sure his face went red in response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt wound an arm around his shoulders, maybe in support, and Thomas happily melted closer to the contact, glad at least not to be alone in his utter embarrassment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay,” Brenda cut off all the mockery, raising her hands, “So today’s a lunch with our parents and the bridal party and then tonight’s the rehearsal. Everyone ready for all that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt awkwardly raised a hand and Teresa waved him down, “Shh, you count. Bridal party plus you.” He looked a little awkward, so Thomas slid an arm around his waist, hoping it would be comforting if nothing else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barely two hours later, they all sat around a table with Jorge, who Thomas had always loved and gotten along well with, and Janson and Ava, who had always been… wildly judgemental. They’d liked Thomas well enough, according to Teresa, but they had also done nothing but criticise him constantly. Honestly, dating Teresa hadn’t been a good period of his life for this very reason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teresa always said they were just protective. Thomas tended to think that they didn’t think he was good enough for her. Maybe that was true. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was sure he radiated nervous energy. The last time they’d seen him, Janson had told Thomas casually that he was probably just too ‘limited’ for their little girl. Thomas knew he was smart, but that insult had never really left his head. Sitting there, across from them, trying not to get their attention, he was suddenly nervous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt could maybe sense that, because Thomas felt a hand slide into his beneath the table. Newt’s hand was warm and comforting in his, and he took a deep breath, trying to calm down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… Mr Green.” Thomas had been dreading it, but he knew it was coming. He glanced up, meeting Janson’s levelling gaze. He always looked at Thomas with such contempt. “Is it not a little strange for you to be at my daughter’s wedding?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Starting off with a classic then, he wanted to say. Teresa was already shifting uncomfortably, maybe ready to intercept if need be. But Thomas refused to need someone else to defend him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr Agnes.” He answered casually, as if seeing him for the first time, “No, it’s not weird. Your daughter is a great girl, and we’ve stayed friends regardless of it not working out between us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed, but it sounded like a joke Thomas wasn’t in on. The table was quiet now, listening to the charged exchange, which was somehow far worse. Thomas could feel his hands shaking slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I shouldn’t be concerned you’re going to try to…” He waved a hand in front of himself vaguely, “Win her back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas blinked, “Uh… no?” He couldn’t help but let out a huff of disbelief. “It’s been years, and I’m here willingly as a bridesmaid and friend. Brides...man. You know what I mean.” He said quickly, kicking himself for his own awkwardness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave Thomas that look again. Contempt and disbelief and judgement. “Ah.” He nodded. “Well, I’m glad you’ve settled into your new role well. The two of you never were on the same… </span>
  <em>
    <span>wavelength.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was humiliating. Nobody was missing the implication and all of his friends were there listening. He could see Teresa getting ready to step in, despite Thomas having dealt with this for years, but he didn’t want that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know how you feel about me, yes,” Thomas answered casually, eyes locked on the other man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Janson smiled, and it was almost reptilian. “Oh, no, please don’t misunderstand. You’re a nice boy. I just think it’s a little… unfortunate for you to still be clinging to your former flames.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was an immediate reaction around the table. Jorge, Brenda and Teresa all looked like they were preparing to jump in, while the rest of his friends either gasped or shifted awkwardly. All movements were only microshifts in their attitudes, but Thomas was hyper aware of the group and how embarrassing this was for him. Newt was right, he should’ve said no. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For all the people Thomas saw preparing to intercept, the one that surprised him most was at his left side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Tommy doesn’t need to cling to any old flames.” He raised their intertwined hands onto the table, showing them to Teresa’s father. “He’s not here alone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Janson surveilled them coldly, and Thomas could see the judgement. He could see the contempt, the way he looked at Newt, then at Thomas in turn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he spoke, it was under his breath, “There must be some appeal I don’t understand.” Again, the table shifted and it was clear multiple people were about to jump into damage control.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt beat them. “That’s unfortunate. He’s smart, handsome and mature enough to maintain friendships with his ‘past flames’, as you put it. I’m not sure what your problem is, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mr Agnes, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but I think it reflects more on you than on Tommy.” He was completely calm and measured. He didn’t sound riled up or upset like Thomas had, but his words sounded completely sincere. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How… cute.” Janson responded, and Thomas realised. Newt had won whatever this was. Janson sounded amped and irritated, while Newt sounded totally calm and self assured. He’d come off as the reasonable one, where Janson had come off as a bully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Janson turned away to his wife, and the table lapsed back into awkward one on one conversations. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned to Newt. “Thank you,” He said breathlessly, and Newt shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guy’s a twat,” Newt answered. His expression was still calm, but Thomas could see now that he was angry too. He felt a rush of affection for his best friend, glad that he had been there with him. This whole thing would’ve been so much worse if he was alone. Every outing, ever dinner, people had mostly left him alone, because he wasn’t the pathetic ex turning up to the wedding. He was just another friend, there with his own significant other. And god, Newt had really been there for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the kissing that first day when no one believed him, the way he’d stopped Thomas making too much of a fool of himself at the Bachelorette party, the way he’d defended him now. Mostly just not letting Thomas take shit from everyone in the name of a few good ‘jokes’. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really, though. Thank you. For doing all this for me.” Newt squeezed Thomas’ hand in response, but didn’t say any more, probably afraid of giving something away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got your back, love.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eventual answer sent butterflies through Thomas’ chest and stomach, and he had to consciously remind himself that this was an act. Newt had his back as his best friend, who was really more loyal than Thomas could’ve ever hoped for. He knew Minho would have defended him too, but Minho was also giving him that same look again, and Thomas didn’t want to look him in the eyes right then. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas didn’t see it coming at all when Newt leaned in, kissing him firmly on the mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was less heated than Thomas remembered the others being, but there was a warm and sweet quality to it. Thomas was pretty sure it was his favourite yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Newt pulled away, Thomas saw his eyes flick to the left, then back to him again, and he realised. Newt had done it because they were being watched. It was yet another defence of him. His heart both swelled and fell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt turned and watched Janson lean in to whisper something to his wife, his eyes clearly on Thomas, and he spoke loud enough that it wasn’t exactly just saying it to everyone, but that everyone could hear him if they were listening. “Shame. There must be some appeal I don’t understand.” He sassed. The table was quiet for a moment, then everyone went back to their own conversations once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the lunch went on without incident, and neither of Teresa’s parents addressed Thomas again. Jorge, however, slipped him a quick congratulations on his relationship and apology on behalf of the in-laws, which he didn’t expect or need. He liked Jorge, and he knew none of it was his fault.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once they were outside, Newt pulled Thomas by the hand towards Teresa, and he went willingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just wanted to apologise,” Newt said quickly, quietly, “I wasn’t trying to make things awkward and--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” She waved him off quickly as Brenda joined her at her side. “No, you did the right thing. I wish I was better at standing up to them like that. But I get upset and then he just makes me feel stupid for being emotional. I never did a great job of defending Thomas when we were together.” She explained, “You handled it the right way. You stayed calm and made it so he couldn’t really argue back without being the irrational one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas squeezed Newt’s hand tighter, and found himself realising that he desperately didn’t want to let go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I get it now.” She said slowly, and neither of them seemed to know what she meant. They both tipped their heads, and Teresa and Brenda laughed at the symmetry of it. “I mean, I always thought Thomas was…” She waved her hand between them, “We both always thought there was something there. But really, seeing the two of you together today… I get it.” She said warmly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a little more small talk that Thomas wasn’t really listening to, but then the two of them walked off towards their cab together, completely silent. There was an air of awkwardness for a little bit than Thomas didn’t know how to deal with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He got lost in his thoughts, in his confusion and his fear about how different he was starting to feel about Newt and how confusing that was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should save the last one for the actual wedding.” Newt interrupted the silence when they got back to the hotel, and Thomas didn’t really know what to do with the comment. It made no sense to him at first glance, and he tipped his head in confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The last kiss.” Newt said, not looking at Thomas as he busied himself reorganising his bag. “We should probably save it for the wedding. I know the rehearsal dinner is tonight, but I think if we can avoid it, we should try to keep it for tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right. The Last Kiss. This was it. After tomorrow, Thomas would never kiss Newt again. Newt wouldn’t hold his hand comfortingly under the table or defend him with a kiss. All of that chemistry, all of that tenderness… he only had one more day of it. And suddenly, he felt like he had to experience as much as he could. To fill his heart as full of Newt as he possibly could before they returned to life as normal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was busy getting ready to shower and clean up before the rehearsal dinner, but he was desperate to look at Newt. Desperate to hug him. To sit too close at his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How had this hit him like a ton of bricks? Eighteen years of friendship and he was just now realising that he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely </span>
  </em>
  <span>fucked. Who could he conceivably love more than his lanky, fluffy haired, doe eyed best friend. Nobody else would ever be him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hell, if he was being honest with himself… maybe nobody else ever </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>measured up to him. Maybe Brenda and Teresa were right. Maybe he’d never really looked at anyone like he looked at Newt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you getting your hair cut, by the way? Shaving?” Newt asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas snorted in response, glad for the excuse to look at the blonde. “Yeah, obviously. Are you saying you have a problem with my caveman look?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt pretended to think about it, “Caveman, eh? I would’ve called it more your Yeti look, actually. I’d be afraid to come upon you in a dark alley.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas shrugged, “I’d be afraid to come across anybody in a dark alley to be fair.” He scoffed. “But I see how it is. So much for unconditional love from my best friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt moved closer, bringing his hand up to brush against Thomas’ face. “It’s not that it’s bad, exactly. It’s just that it’s… not </span>
  <em>
    <span>good.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He teased, and Thomas let out a loud laugh, totally happy to be mocked forever if Newt was going to touch his face at the same time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jeez, Newt. Better hope you don’t go bald or something just from the sheer karma of going after my facial hair like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A snort, “Please, Tommy. The amount of hair I have has </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>been a problem. Look at it— not going anywhere any time soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, well, we’d need another twenty years to know for sure, since you never age, like some tripped out Peter Pan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scoffed, “So by that logic, you’ll look fifty while I still look thirty, you realise that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’ll have to love me anyway, because that’s part of the contract.” Thomas answered without thinking. He only realised a moment too late that that might sound weird, given their current predicament. But Newt was still laughing, and Thomas breathed a sigh of relief that this whole thing hadn’t alienated them entirely from each other. Yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you nervous?” He asked then. “About tonight? Tomorrow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas shrugged, but then remembered who he was talking to and softened a little. “Honestly, yeah. Terrified. People have been… pretty judgemental about it all. I didn’t know so many people felt so strongly that you’re so out of my league and then with Teresa’s Dad today, I just…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed, and shifted closer to Thomas on the bed, so their arms and legs were pressed together. “Hey, it’s… it’s not up to any of them, yeah? And for what it’s worth, I don’t think they even mean it. Half are messing with you and Teresa’s parents are… jealous dickheads. That Janson just wanted to have a dick measuring contest.” He gave a reassuring smile. “You’re great, Tommy, alright? No matter what anyone here thinks. You’re bigger than all this small town bullshit anyway. Give it ten years, you’ll be one of the biggest names in your field and they’ll all still be in the shitty town they grew up in. You’re too good for all these people. You’re a genius and they’re just… jealous.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas was so overwhelmed with the kindness of it all he might’ve cried, except that he was still conscious of how he acted, and of not weirding Newt out. He couldn’t lose him as a friend because of this, so he had to be bloody careful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks…” He said slowly, and without thinking too much about it, dropped his head down into Newt’s shoulder. His best friend draped an arm around him reassuringly, and Thomas sank happily into it. He’d stay like this forever if Newt would let him. “You know you’re…” What? What the fuck could Thomas say that would sum it all up when he was looking at his best friend who he was pretty sure he was in love with, even if he hadn’t known it a week before. “You’re the most important person in my life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That could be platonic, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You too, Tommy.” He said gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He won’t be here tonight.” Thomas said casually, and despite the lack of information, Newt seemed to know exactly what he meant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter.” He sighed. “It’s been </span>
  <em>
    <span>years, </span>
  </em>
  <span>mate. If he’a not over it by now, that’s his problem.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And… you…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me what?” Newt asked, brows furrowed seriously, “Tommy, don’t start with me again. I’m over it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just saying… I know you guys were all like… super in love and I know… it ended badly and if you did want to restart things I wouldn’t want to…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me you’re not offering to blow this entire thing up because my ex boyfriend is going to be at the wedding tomorrow? I did all this to help you and it’s way more embarrassing if we admit to not actually being together now.” He said quickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay,” Thomas backed down quickly, “I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to… y’know, stand in the way of you being happy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, eyes wide and resolute, “I don’t want to get back together with Aris, Tommy.” He sounded irritated and pushy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas accepted this answer, though he still felt distinctly like there was more to it than Newt was telling him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dinner went by quickly and without much fuss. They made their speeches, did what they were told, and soon, they were allowed to eat and dance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither Thomas or Newt immediately got up, and when Newt asked, Thomas jokingly told him that he’d done enough dancing for a lifetime, which led them both into a fit of giggles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t until Minho grabbed one of each of their hands that the two reluctantly got up, dragged onto the dance floor with their third best friend. Neither of them was ever good at turning Minho down, and he was the boldest of them all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So it barely took any time at all before the three were holding hands, jumping around like idiots, screaming the lyrics to Mr Brightside and then to Teenage Dirtbag, all happy and excited. Minho had more rhythm than Newt and Thomas combined, but it didn’t matter much when the three just all banged into each other, tripping and laughing and ignoring the rest of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a nice moment, and all Thomas’ fears of losing his best friends were temporarily abated, leaving him with joy and a feeling of pride for the people in his life that he loved so much. Minho and Newt, who he remembered as chubby cheeked, red faced children that he used to run laps of the schoolyard with over and over until they got in trouble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could recall every one of their awkward phases. Every sleepover. Every bad day that one of them got sad or got dumped or got yelled at. He remembered every afternoon sitting in the park and every evening whispering in the dark once their parents had gone to sleep. Times changed, and they’d all grown apart, but here they were. As close and as happy as ever. Maybe Thomas had been paranoid to think he would lose that. Maybe the reason he didn’t lose it was because they all tried so hard to actively maintain it. Maybe that desire to make sure he didn’t lose them, the same one they each felt, was the reason they had remained so close, so valuable to each other even after so many years, even with so little in common as adults. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembered that day in the hospital with Newt. He and Minho, all of them only fourteen or fifteen, not emotionally aware enough yet to fully understand what Newt had gone through. They had gone to his bedside every day that he was in there. They had brought playdough, and books and bubble wrap, and all manner of other ridiculous things they hoped would cheer him up. They never had too many serious talks about what had happened, but he still remembered how he and Minho had each grasped one of Newt’s hands, and how desperately happy he’d been that his friend was still there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were not a duo. They were always meant to be a trio. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking at Newt now, he felt a surge of pride for the boy and how far he’d come. Freshly twenty-three years old, dancing around with a wide grin on his face, his blonde hair bouncing around in his face to the music, his laughter full of actual happiness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas loved him. Any urge to deny it to himself faded in light of how happy Newt looked. And while he knew he couldn’t do anything about it, there was something sort of magical about knowing, and about admitting it, even to himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The music slowed, and Minho let go of each of their hands, a slow smile pulled at his face. “You two are up,” He said, pushing at their shoulders so that they came together. Knowing he couldn’t pull away without seeming suspicious, Thomas rested his hands at Newt’s sides, glad that neither of them was too uncomfortable with such a gesture, or the closeness of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Minho’s a shit,” Newt told him casually as they swayed to the song. Thomas wasn’t sure he knew it, but it was soft and romantic, and a backdrop he didn’t really need to his already confrontingly strong feelings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, he definitely planned this.” Thomas agreed with a nod, “Pulling us up so we’d have to slow dance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt nodded, then rolled his eyes as Minho mouthed something at him Thomas couldn’t see from the angle he was at. “He’s a dick. We don’t have to do this long, I’ll say my leg is acting up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas grinned in response, “Are you so desperate to get away from me, man?” He asked, really only partly joking. Newt rolled his eyes, but didn’t say any more on the subject, instead staring into the distance, right over Thomas’ shoulder. Thomas had no idea why, but he worried suddenly that he’d done something wrong. Had he offended Newt in some way?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then Newt was humming along to the song and Thomas found himself watching curiously. Newt wasn’t that prone to doing things like this, things that seemed… vulnerable, so Thomas was curious about it. About what he was singing. He waited, happily listening for a bit before he slowly asked, “What song is this…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blonde glanced up, surprised. “It’s called ‘So Close’.” He admitted, “It’s from Enchanted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That brought a grin to Thomas’ face, though he wasn’t sure why. There was just something endearing about Newt knowing the song so well from such a sweet movie. It was going to be difficult, he decided, to return to normal. But he had tonight, and he had tomorrow, and at least he could appreciate those moments. Store them away. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And now forever, I know… all that I wanted, to hold you so close…” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Newt was still singing quietly, and now that Thomas thought it about it, the moment felt like a movie all on its own. A moment of absolute, pure happiness. He didn’t care who watched. He didn’t care what anyone thought. He was just listening to Newt sing this romantic song, so close he could count his eyelashes, and wondering if it really had to end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The song was building to its crescendo and Thomas could admit he was being won over by it all. The fairy lights overhead in the venue. The atmosphere. The music. He was so close to Newt, and it would be so easy to just close the distance between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he did. He leaned up a little, closing the few inch gap between them, leaning up a little to do so. He understood now. Those movie moments. The beautiful music, the perfect atmosphere, the entire room seeming like it was empty except for the two of you. There was nothing else in the world but the two of them, and the song, and the dancing, and Thomas couldn’t bring himself to care or to remember anything at all else. This wasn’t the heated kiss from before, or even the supportive and chaste one from earlier. It was tender, full of gentleness and love. At least from Thomas’ side, it was. It felt like the kiss at the end of the movie. The one you watched when you were a kid and dreamt you would have one day.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, how could I face the faceless days, if I should lose you now?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembered as he pulled back, the fact that that was it. That was the last one. The five kisses they’d agreed upon when they’d set their ground rules. It was their second last night in the hotel. Then they would fly back home, return to college life, return to being best friends, and that would be it. No more of… whatever tangible magic these moments had been made of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swallowed hard, and glanced to his right, gesturing to Teresa’s parents, who watched them. “Sorry, I…” He said, by way of an excuse. Newt seemed to understand as he followed Thomas’ gaze, nodding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I get it.” He said quickly, but didn’t pull away from the dance. It would probably look weird now if he did. Still, from Thomas’ perspective at least, it felt different now. The moment had been tilted off its axis, and the realisation that this was coming to an end was throwing him off balance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Tommy?” Thomas’ eyes opened in the dark. He was laying beside Newt on their bed, and it had to be after two in the morning. He made a sound of assent and Newt continued speaking, “This isn’t going to ruin anything, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas blinked at the ceiling, trying to make out anything as his eyes adjusted to the light. He had never had much luck with such things. Was this going to ruin things? He was terrified that it was. Terrified that he wouldn’t know how to return to being ‘just friends’ after this. Terrified that Newt would notice something had changed and not want to be around him anymore. Terrified of how devastating it would be when Newt found someone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not,” He answered as confidently as he could, “Why should it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Could Newt already tell something had shifted with Thomas? Was that what he was afraid of?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.” He said slowly, “It’s not like we’ve ever… made out during a strip tease or danced together like that.” A pause, a cleared throat. “I just don’t want it to… change things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course. Newt didn’t want things to change. Thomas tried not to feel too sad about it. He had always known what this was. It was fake. He had had to beg Newt to do it with him, literally. Of course, </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he couldn’t expect anything else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bold of you to assume you could ever lose me.” Thomas said, figuring that was the fear. “I mean, I think you could literally murder me and I would still haunt you for the rest of eternity. You literally signed up for an entire lifetime of my annoying presence.” Newt was laughing, so Thomas kept on, “I mean, you’re absolutely stuck with me. Like… good luck with that, because I only get more irritating as the years go on. I don’t know if you’ve noticed. But you don’t get used to me. I’m just there. Probably singing the Pokemon theme song.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a long moment of laughter, and then Newt asked, “Would it make things totally weird if I asked you to come here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No weirder than anything else we’ve done over the past week,” Thomas said casually, rolling closer to Newt and wrapping his arms around the taller boy in a hug. It was, actually, weirder than what else they’d done, because nobody else was here to see it. Because now they were in bed, in their boxers, with their arms wrapped around each other and Thomas’ head on Newt’s shoulder, and Thomas was pretty sure he didn’t ever want to move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” Newt said quietly, “I was cold. And honestly, a little scared.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas blinked up at him, though he couldn’t see much of his features. “Him?” He asked slowly, and Newt nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you ever tell me the whole story?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, eventually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas didn’t stay up to push any further, because a few minutes later, he was drifting off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had no time to stay and think about whether or not their position was weird, because he was running late, damnit, and Teresa would kill him if he and Minho missed their hair appointments. Apparently they both had to have haircuts before they could stand beside Teresa at the end of the aisle. It was fair, probably, but Thomas was honestly just glad people might stop bullying him about Newt being out of his league just because he was a little… scragglier than usual. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had unwound himself from his spot in Newt’s arms without too much thought, running out the door with his pants half done up and finding Minho there staring at him with a smirk and raised brows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was beginning to think you were bailing on the appointment.” Minho told him, and the two jogged down to get a cab to the place Teresa had made an appointment for them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time they were in the cab, Thomas could feel the weight of the silence, and he knew Minho was going to try to talk to him about something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So…” He began, and Thomas was filled with a feeling of dread. “We gotta talk about it, man. You know it, I know it, we’re just beating around the bush.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas shook his head resolutely. “I don’t agree. We’re the masters of our own fate. We don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to talk about anything. Hell, we could talk about the weather or… have a debate about philosophical prose for all I care.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho shot him an amused look that told him he wasn’t getting out of anything today. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Newt thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is no Newt thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>a Newt thing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stared at each other intently for a minute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, please, I’m not blind. Something’s changed. You know it. I know it. I’m sure Newt knows it. You can’t just ignore it or it actually will ruin the friendship.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas scoffed, “Nothing’s changed. We’re two single men pretending to be a couple. That’s all. No funny business.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, you two are such a shucking cliché, Tom. Don’t you think it’s funny how easily you convinced everyone you’ve ever been close to that you’re in love with him? Including me? And I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>that this was fake?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Actually, he had a point, but Thomas didn’t want to hear it, so he just shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haven’t you been hearing everyone saying how out of my league he is?” Thomas asked with a scoff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but you’re not going to be a weird mountain man after this, everyone will remember what your face looks like when you look like yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas snorted, “You’re wrong, Min. There’s nothing going on. And even if there was… he’s not interested in me, alright, so we’re not doing this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tom… I love you, you’re one of my best friends in the world, I’m fairly certain we’re platonic soulmates, but uh… you’re a fucking moron.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas stood in front of the floral arch, standing by Teresa’s side, watching as she and Brenda got married. They both looked beautiful, and while Teresa had been an absolute vision, Brenda looked just as radiant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What was more, they both looked so </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Thomas thought it was that more than anything. He was pretty sure they could be wearing garbage bags and look just as gorgeous, because their happiness made them both luminous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Thomas had been sneaking glances at Newt. In his navy suit, with dark sunglasses on against the glare of the bright sun in the garden. It was cold, but it was bright. Newt looked… perfect. With his fluffy hair and his legs folded, he looked cooler and calmer than Thomas was pretty sure he’d ever been in his entire life. He would’ve been far better at playing this part than Thomas himself, but at least Thomas had him as backup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was sure the girls would soon be freezing, once the excitement settled a little, and they’d have to return inside for the reception. But for now, there was powdered snow, and beautiful trees, and a flower arch, and two women who looked undeniably and completely enamoured with each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He listened where he was supposed to and cried when they gave their vows. He felt weirdly lucky that he’d known them both so well, and glad that it hadn’t worked out with either of them. They were far happier together anyway. They deserved that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had his speech ready to go as Teresa’s best… man? Man of honour? Whatever the hell he was. He was prepared and grateful and relieved to be part of it all, but he also felt deeply sad. When all this ended, and it would, quickly, that’d be it. No more Thomas and Newt. No more of whatever all that had been. He would never get to kiss Newt again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ceremony ended, and they went to take photos. They were beautiful, and it was fun to be able to get photos with the whole bridal party, but Thomas felt that Newt was noticeably missing. That any group hangout without him was wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Regardless, there was even a photo of him with both Teresa and Brenda, which they had wanted for a joke, since they had supposedly bonded over their failed relationships with him. He tried not to take that one too hard. He didn’t care exactly, but it did sort of make him feel like a failure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were at least two photos where Minho carried him, and at least three where he carried Minho. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All in all though, by the time they were dismissed back to the reception, Thomas was bloody ready to be done. To sit down and eat and enjoy it all. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he and Newt wouldn’t be at the same table, but as soon as he saw, as soon as it clicked, he decided he hated it. He’d spent the whole evening going back and forth if he had to, but he wouldn’t leave his best friend alone and isolated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He and Minho were made to dance in for their entrance, and while he was unsurprised they were given the song ‘Too Sexy For my Shirt’, he knew it was a dig about the lap dance, and as such, seductively took his jacket off and swung it around as he made his way to the tables. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needn’t worry about Newt being alone though, because he was sat directly beside Aris, and a weird feeling of jealousy he didn’t normally have when it came to Newt settled over him with uneasy heaviness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teresa saw him looking, and told him that she’d put them there before she’d known about the two of them. Thomas didn’t feel any better about it though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When it was time for Thomas to make his speech, he was honestly terrified. But he knew he had no choice, and anyway, he was honoured. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So. Hi, everyone, my name’s Thomas, if you don’t know me. Sadly, I think most of this room has already had the misfortune of meeting me previously. I’m, uh, Teresa Bridesman. Or Best Man. Man of Honour, if you will. Teresa and I met when we were five. We were in some special advanced classes together and she still had a way of making me feel completely stupid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All these years, I had a lot of trouble imagining her with someone. I always thought no one was really smart enough, or incisive enough… But y’know, looking at Brenda now… Of course it’s her. She’s tough, smart, and headstrong enough to put up with Tez. They’re perfect for each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I feel I have it on pretty good authority to say that, because… y’know, I’m an ex of the bride. And before you ask ‘which bride’, the answer is unfortunately… yes.” He paused, and got a fair few laughs from the audience. “But seriously. The fact that I’m here at all, history aside, speaks to the maturity, understanding, security and communications skills of these two women. They’re absolutely perfect together and I could not be happier for them or more honoured to be part of this day. I really hope that one day I’ll have something even half as good as what you two have together.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone toasted and Thomas could relax a little more, the scariest part over with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When it was time for the first dance, Thomas got Newt from his table, pulling him up into a close and affectionate dance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was awesome, Tommy.” Newt said fondly, arms around Thomas’ neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? I wasn’t too… I don’t know, cheesy?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope. Absolutely perfect, really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Thomas relaxed a little, and Newt pulled him in a little closer. He reminded himself not to think too much of it. None of this was really real. And today was the last day he’d ever get to do it. He needed to remember that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few more songs passed them by, and they chit chatted about the dresses they saw and the weather. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By the way,” Newt said softly, “You look really nice,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas just stared. He had been so caught off guard when he first saw Newt by how good the boy looked, that knowing Newt had even considered how he looked made his heart flutter a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me?” He asked with a laugh, “You look like this the physical embodiment of like… cool and put together. Apparently I’m the weird friend who eats pickles or the guy who’s been reading conspiracies for a week. Remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt scoffed and shook his head, “They’ll all be eating their words seeing you tonight. I promise you that. They’ve forgotten that </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>were the popular kid. I was the weird, awkward friend that looked like a kid while you two looked like men.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come on,” Thomas rolled his eyes, “You were never </span>
  <em>
    <span>that. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Although, Teresa did say something about me being ‘the obviously hot guy’. But she said it like it was an insult. I think she was calling me basic.” He said with a small grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out a loud laugh. “Ouch.” Newt grinned, “It really hasn’t been your week, huh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Honestly, no, it had not been Thomas’ week. In the span of a week, Thomas had found out all his friends thought his best friend was out of his league, found out his exes dumped him because they thought he was in love with someone else and perhaps worst of all, realised that they were right. Still, it had all felt… really worth it. Just to spend that time with Newt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm, no. Not exactly.” He grinned. “Though, it would’ve been far worse without you by my side, Newtie.” He teased, patting Newt’s side casually, fondly. Fake, he reminded himself. This was all fake. He couldn’t let himself believe, even amongst the beautiful atmosphere and the romantic music, that any of this was true. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m flattered,” He grinned, dramatically spinning Thomas under his arm and surprising him, Thomas breaking down into giddy laughter as he did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want a drink?” Thomas asked after, “I get freebies because I’m in the bridal party.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt nodded, and Thomas went off, knowing what Newt usually drank without having to ask about it. It was easy enough anyway, to go off to the bar and take a moment to regain himself, to remind himself that Newt wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>Newt, and no amount of finally realising he was in love with him was going to change that. He was such a bloody idiot about all this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What he hadn’t been expecting, however, was someone to approach him at the bar. Though as soon as he saw who it was, he couldn’t find it within himself to be surprised. He didn’t know much about the breakup, but he knew it wasn’t exactly amicable. Newt and Aris had been together for multiple years before they broke up, and Aris had never been a fan of Thomas by any means. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Green.” Thomas eyed him, a little paranoid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aris.” He greeted, turning back to the bar, reluctant to let a conversation start up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see you’re here with my ex.” The way he said it was weirdly possessive, and Thomas could already feel that he was looking for a confrontation. As much as he didn’t want one himself, he wasn’t going to let Aris push him around or say anything bad about Newt. That was probably why it was so much safer for him to just get out of here rather than continuing to have these conversations. He simply nodded, not wanting to get into an argument at his friends’ wedding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good luck with that. I’m sure you’ve already noticed his wandering eye.” Thomas was already starting to get irritated, and he knew that was what Aris wanted. He wasn’t sure what the endgame was though. How did picking a fight with Thomas serve him in any way? He didn’t answer, simply set his jaw and stared ahead, so Aris went on. “Then again, who knows? Maybe he’ll be different with you.” Thomas could feel Aris’ eyes on the side of his face, and he could feel the cold, judgemental air to it. “Maybe he’s changed. Doubtful though. If he was willing to throw away what we had, I doubt he’s changed any.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas took a sharp breath, trying to calm himself, to keep his voice neutral when he spoke, “I really don’t think this is an appropriate conversation for you to be trying to have with me. Also, frankly, I’ve known Newt a lot longer than you, and was a lot closer even when you were together. I don’t think you can tell me anything about him I don’t already know.” This wasn’t strictly true. They were closer, and had known each other longer, but Thomas didn’t actually know what it was like to be loved by Newt, and Aris did. Aris did have something Thomas didn’t. Not that he could let him know that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorry,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Green.” He didn’t sound sorry, “I didn’t mean to touch a nerve. But I guess… maybe the two of you are suited. Between you, you’ve dated half the bloody guest list.” He said it like it was a joke, but Thomas could hear the malice. That was very far from true, but between him and the wedded couple, it wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is really transparent,” Thomas said slowly, forcing his voice to stay calm. “I’m sorry you’re not over him, and that he’s here with me, but slut shaming is a little out of pocket, and very outdated.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scoffed, “Look, Tommy.” If there was any quick way to piss Thomas off, that was it. “I’m just trying to warn you. Newt’s a good guy. He really is. And he’s really good at making you feel like you’re special. But when push comes to shove, and things get hard, and they will… He’ll bail on you. And you’ll be left with a broken heart and one best friend short.” He said it in a way that sounded like he was being genuine, like he was actually trying to help Thomas, and that only pissed him off more. He had changed his tune so quickly when Thomas hadn’t backed down, and though he didn’t want it to, the comments did set his teeth on edge. They weren’t even together, and the thought of Newt moving on already drove him mad. How much worse would it be when it actually happened? But he wasn’t Aris, and he had no right to try to isolate Newt for the sake of his own happiness. That would never be him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With respect--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Without respect,” The third voice was only partly unexpected. Part of him was kind of hoping that Newt would see what was going on and intercept, because this wasn’t his fight, and frankly, it was hard to argue when Newt had never actually told Thomas the full story. “Could you please stop trying to sabotage my relationship? It’s been years, Aris. It’s time to move on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aris smiled, and Thomas had the sense that this was what he had wanted all along. For Newt to step in. “Hey, Newt. I was just trying to warn your new boyfriend what you’re really like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What I’m really like?” Newt smiled back, but it was completely cold. “Please, Aris, tell me. What am I really like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas’ eyes widened, “I don’t feel like I should be here for this…” He trailed off, awkwardness building steadily in his stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you should hear it.” Aris said quickly, “That he’s the kind of person who promises to stay and then just up and ditches when things get a little hard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt wound an arm around Thomas’ shoulder, and Thomas was beginning to regret even coming to this at all, and convincing Newt to do the same, since his fake boyfriend hadn’t even been intending to come at all before Thomas convinced him. He had been invited, but his plan had been to turn it down. Maybe partly because he thought Teresa and Brenda didn’t like him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right, Tommy should hear it. It’s about time he knew the story. I left. That’s true. I left because you were clingy and overprotective and I just wasn’t feeling any love anymore. I left after months of trying to get whatever we had back, and I left respectfully, trying to be as polite and gentle as I could about it. When I got impatient was after the months of you following me, constantly messaging me, and insulting me when I tried to tell you it was over. It’s been years, and now you’re resorting to harassing Tommy to try to get my attention. It’s time to let go, Aris. For your sake and for mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does he know why you </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>left?” Aris asked, his jaw locked. Newt stared him down, and Thomas wished he could disappear into the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does he know how long you’ve been pining over him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Could Thomas run away? Would that be bad? Would this be a bad time to just disappear into the abyss and be done with this? People around were starting to pay attention to this, and it was embarrassing enough being an ex of the two brides, he didn’t need to be involved in some other romantic drama. But he also didn’t want to abandon Newt. He just wanted this to be done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is pathetic,” Thomas hissed under his breath, “It’s been years since you broke up. It doesn’t matter why, it’s over. It’s done. Today isn’t about you or him or me, it’s about Brenda and Teresa. I’m not doing this anymore.” He said quickly, grabbing Newt’s hand and hoping the taller boy would go with him when he tried to leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They turned, and Aris spoke again, quieter now. “You know, I understood when we were in high school and he was all… Homecoming King, football store, popular guy. But now? He’s a loser. It’s time to get over your high school crush.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, Newt looked really, really angry. Then, never the type to cause a fight if he didn’t have to, he turned and grabbed either side of Thomas’ face with surprising force, leaning down to kiss him sort of roughly. This kiss was nothing like any of the others. It felt sort of angry, and defiant. It was Thomas’ least favourite, but it didn’t pass him by that, once again, Newt was doing it in defence of him. The first, because his friends teased him. The second, to stop him being embarrassed by the lap dance of it all. The third… he didn’t even remember. The fourth, had been because Teresa’s parents had been rude to him. The fifth had been Thomas, his own tendency to get carried away in softer moments. This one, the sixth, the one they hadn’t agreed to, had been defending him from Aris. Maybe it had been for Newt’s sake too, to prove a point, to fight back. Either way, it made Thomas’ chest ache, to realise that they all felt like pity. Like Newt didn’t him a favour rather than actually wanting to be with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then they were back on the dance floor, and Thomas didn’t say more, because he didn’t want to start a drama, </span>
  <em>
    <span>another drama, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but he was starting to feel sad. All of this was his fault. It was Thomas’ fault. He had asked Newt to come with him. He had asked about whether or not they were allowed to kiss to be convincing. He had been the one who had put him in this weird, vulnerable position. And now it was actually affecting their friendship, and Thomas had no idea how to fix it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Newt said quietly, and Thomas, who had been looking down at his shoulder in thought, glanced back up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” He asked, confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry for that.” He said slowly, “I know it’s probably awkward for you, being caught in the middle of old relationship drama. And… and having him go after you personally like that. And I… y’know, kissed you without asking. I’m sorry. For all of it, I didn’t mean to make things weird.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas shook his head, “It was me who dragged you into all this. I’m just sorry if it… well, it dragged old stuff back up with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah,” He said slowly, “Thanks for defending me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are friends for?” Thomas asked with a weak smile, but something had changed between them. Something was a little awkward, and he wasn’t sure how to fix it. He wanted to fix it. Maybe it was what Aris had said. Maybe it was just the fact that they’d crossed their agreed limits now. “You never told me he kept going after you after you broke up with him.” Thomas said slowly, “Was it bad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt nodded slowly, “I never really talked to anyone about the extent of it,” He admitted, “I thought that Aris was a good guy, he was… just hurt.” He shrugged, “I didn’t think this would just keep going forever…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was it really because of me?” Thomas asked, barely a whisper, worried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sort of. Not just you.” Newt said slowly, “But not really. It was his fault. He was just… really jealous. And he got super weird about my relationship with you and Minho. Especially once we all moved in to go to college together, it all just… amped up. He started quizzing me about my conversations with you both and… a couple of times I caught him going through our messages when we were together. That was kind of it for me. He got it into his head that it was because of you guys and… he kept sending me increasingly more troubling messages for months afterwards before it stopped. I didn’t really tell anyone because I didn’t want everyone to hate him for it. Like I said, I thought it was just… a lapse. I had no idea he’d do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, don’t worry about me,” Thomas said quickly, “I’ve gotten very used to people around here thinking I’m a loser,” He joked, “I’m more concerned about how it’s affecting you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well… the people around here fucking suck. That’s why we left, remember? You, me and Minho? I mean, you’re an </span>
  <em>
    <span>actual, </span>
  </em>
  <span>certified genius, Tommy. These people just…” He shook his head, “They just haven’t bothered to get to know you. And the ones who did love you. Even if they tease you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas frowned, “That’s really… nice of you, but I’m still worried about you.” He said quickly, “I had no idea about all of the stuff that happened between you and Aris and now that I do know I--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m worried about you!” Thomas said quickly, “That sort of shit isn’t normal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well… Guess I’m lucky my best friend has my back,” He said softly. Then, his voice even quieter, “I’m sorry about the… y’know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be.” Thomas said quickly, “I get it. You were doing the protective thing. Like before. It’s totally fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the night was </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird, </span>
  </em>
  <span>in Thomas’ eyes. The two seemed unsure how to be together, and while they went on dancing together and with their other friends, the energy never really shifted back away from the awkward interaction with Aris. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas heard what Aris said. That Newt had always pined after him. But he’d also heard Newt explain that Aris had been jealous and intense about Thomas and Minho both. He was sure it meant nothing, and based on Aris’ aggressive attitude and inability to move on, Thomas tended not to believe a word he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He danced with Minho to ‘Dancing Queen’, as they had since childhood. He danced with Teresa and Brenda to ‘It’s Raining Men’, and with Newt and Minho to ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’. He danced with Harriet while Sonya and Newt danced together to ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’. The last song of the evening was a romantic one Thomas didn’t know the name of, but which he happily danced along to with Newt in his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried hard not to get too invested, but it was hard not to. He might never get to do something like this with Newt again, and listening to the soft, sweet words of the song, looking into Newt’s warm brown eyes, he could almost pretend it was real. Almost pretend that it wouldn’t be over the second they got onto that plane in the morning. He wasn’t ready for it to be over. He wasn’t sure he ever would be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time they made their way back to the hotel, they were both tired, a little out of sorts, and pleasantly drunk. Things hadn’t quite returned to normal, but they were both in fine moods, and a little tipsy to boot, so that was fine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt went off to shower and Thomas stumbled into bed, laying there fully dressed and watching the ceiling spin around above his head. He had learned that if the room span while he was drunk and laying down, it usually meant he’d be fucked in the morning, but he was too drunk to care right at that moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Newt returned, Thomas was already asleep, and Newt had to shake him awake gently, so that he at least didn’t sleep in the suit. Aside from it being wildly uncomfortable, Thomas would almost certainly choke himself wearing a tie to bed that drunk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas woke up enough to strip down to his underwear, before falling back into the bed, rolling comfortably into Newt’s side, and falling to sleep with his arms wrapped around the blonde. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas’ head pounded. He felt sick to his stomach, and he was pretty sure any kind of transport while hungover should be illegal. It was his own mistake, getting so drunk when he knew he would be getting on a plane the following morning, but hell, it was too late to regret it now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, what he regretted more was the way he had woken up. In his underwear, almost certainly snoring, arms and legs wrapped tight around Newt, like some little pathetic koala. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he woke up, Newt’s eyes were closed, and Thomas had no idea whether he was really asleep or pretending to be for the sake of Thomas’ pride, but he hoped against hope that it was the former as he slowly twisted himself out of Newt’s arms and disappeared into the bathroom to try to scrape together what was left of his pride. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was stupid, though, Thomas had genuinely, genuinely had no idea he had any romantic feelings at all for Newt when he’d begged him to do this. He had really thought it would just be easier, that the two would have fun together. He’d also had no idea their friends would have </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>many opinions on them supposedly dating. He’d had no idea what he was walking into with Aris, or really even with Janson. He’d had no idea that people would have so much to say about it. But they had, and Thomas had dealt with it, and though it did bother him, how easily he was mocked by the people he’d once known so well, what bothered him more was the fear that they were all correct.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That Newt was too good for him, that he was too smart, too put together, too nice. Thomas was smart, sure, and maybe at one point people had thought he was attractive, but everyone had had something to say about that too. And maybe Newt was right, maybe they were just joking, but hadn’t that been the exact reason Thomas had asked Minho and Newt in the first place? Because he felt like he was going to lose his cooler, better, more adult friends. Because they were so sure of themselves, and so unapologetically </span>
  <em>
    <span>themselves, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Thomas felt like he floated around like a confused duck with no idea whether it was meant to be on land or sea. Thomas had asked them out of fear that he was losing them, and everyone’s surprise that he hadn’t lost them only reaffirmed why he was afraid to begin with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat between the two on their flight and squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to let the loud rumble of the engine and the chatting around him bother him. He’d never been great with flying, but it was way worse hungover. Worse still when trying to deal with your sudden and undeniable feelings for your best friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stayed in total silence until Newt went to the bathroom, at which point Minho leaned over to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked, just about scaring Thomas to death. “Why have you not dealt with this yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you talking about?” Thomas whisper-yelled back. “I’m just trying to nap!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho scoffed, “Tom, please. You guys can’t ignore this, it’s going to ruin everything. If you had asked me before, I might’ve been nervous about the two of you doing this because I would be worried it’d ruin the friendship if you got together and broke up, but this is so much worse. You can’t go back to just friends after that and we both know it. Please, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please, </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t ruin this perfect friendship by falling in love with him and letting it tear you apart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas’ eyes were wide, “Minho, what the fuck? I never said I was--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t have to say. I’m not stupid, alright? Nobody is. You really think you’d have fooled everyone you’ve ever known with this if there wasn’t something real behind it? I mean, I bet I could kiss you right now and neither of us would feel anything at all, because we’re like brothers and it’s weird. But was it weird when you kissed Newt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas just blinked. “I am not awake enough for this rant. Please don’t kiss me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ew, I’m not going to, shank. I was just making a point.</span>
  <em>
    <span> I know you.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You can lie to me about this all you want, but you can’t lie to yourself.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not lying to anybody!” Thomas said quickly. And then, when Minho stared at him like he was stupid, “Saying something would ruin everything, okay? I’m not going to do that. So… just forget it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you don’t think this is going to ruin everything? Shit’s changed, man, I can see it. I know you both can too, I can see it on your faces.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Minho.” Thomas said again, shaking his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I swear to god, I will do it for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You,” He said resolutely, “You won’t. Because you’re a good friend and you respect that this is my decision. We’re not doing this, alright? I’ll get over it. Whatever that was, I’ll get over it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho went to answer, but was cut off by Newt climbing back over Thomas and Minho to get to his window seat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you two talking about then?” He asked, dropping back into his seat casually and picking up his sketchbook.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Minho’s bullying me,” Thomas said with a shrug, “Nothing unusual,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The flight went on in near silence until Minho nudged Thomas in the direction of Newt’s notebook. Thomas never made a thing of looking at it, he knew Newt hated it when they just looked without asking, but he was immediately distracted when he saw what Minho had been shoving him towards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was him, asleep, in the hotel bed. Thomas had never minded Newt drawing him, not in the slightest, and Newt knew that, but something about this particular moment seemed… so intimate. When had Newt even watched Thomas sleep like that. He thought he had woken up first every morning, but evidently that couldn’t be true. Everything from his moles to the curve of his nose was unmistakably him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt, maybe able to feel the gaze, looked up at Thomas like a deer in headlights, and snapped the book shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I hate it when you--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but that’s--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have no right to--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Newt, it’s--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. It’s you.” He snapped, “I know it’s weird, but…” He trailed off, and Thomas couldn’t help the feeling rising in his chest. Hope, he realised. It was hope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that it’s weird, it’s just… when did you even…?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The morning of. The first morning, I mean.” Newt answered, somewhat sheepish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas eyed the drawing, then Newt, and everything was eerily quiet, until Minho got up and walked off, probably to give them space. Thomas was glad, frankly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that the only one?” Thomas asked. His brain felt like it was moving through mud, like he couldn’t form any coherent thoughts right at that moment. Newt shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas reached forward, pulling the book from Newt’s hands gently, flipping through the pages of it. He flipped and flipped and flipped and found something he hadn’t been expecting. Himself. On every page, in incredible detail. His eyes, his hands, his expressions. His lips. There were one or two here or there of Minho or of someone from his classes, but mostly, they were of Thomas. Portraits, constructed painstakingly and lovingly, looking exactly like him, down to the last detail. Thomas had to wonder how well Newt must know his face to be able to replicate all these without Thomas ever noticing. He knew Newt drew him sometimes. He even modelled. Newt had asked him many a time if it weirded him out. Of course, he had had no idea then how </span>
  <em>
    <span>much </span>
  </em>
  <span>Newt drew him. Not that it did bother him. To the contrary, Thomas felt a swell of love and affection for Newt as he glanced from the drawings, to him and back again. He liked sheepish and nervous, picking at his fingers for something to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does this mean?” Thomas whispered, looking up at the other boy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt was breathing heavily, like he was panicking, his tongue caught between his lips. Time lapsed between them quickly, neither speaking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was Aris right?” He asked after a moment, “I mean, I know he’s… a piece of shit, but…” A sharp breath, “Was he right about… you and me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt chuckled awkwardly, “Look, I’m sorry, Thomas. I’ll back off if you want me to and… in fairness, I tried to talk you out of this plan altogether and…” He sighed, “And I’ll back off. I know that this didn’t mean anything, alright? I know that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas’ eyes fluttered, and he felt his heart soften. “It did mean something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt just stared at him, unreadable. Thomas thought his heart might beat right out of his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It meant something. I didn’t know it did, but it did. But then Sonya told me she was worried one of us would get the wrong idea and…” Newt‘s expression turned amused for a moment. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt was laughing then, so Thomas just went on. “I thought she meant…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How would she know what you were feeling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I don’t know! Everyone else seemed to know what I was feeling!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Newt let out a laugh and it sounded happy and free and so Thomas felt compelled to keep talking. “I’ve spent the entire last few days trying to figure out how I was going to go back to being just friends now that I know what it’s like to kiss you. To be allowed to…” He paused, something snapping into focus. “Wait, if you drew me sleeping…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah, I know you kept waking up in my arms.” Newt nodded, and he sounded far more like himself again. Confident, snarky, bold, “I just thought for your ego I’d pretend to be asleep.” He cleared his throat. “So… about knowing what it’s like to kiss me…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas took that as an invitation and leaned across the annoying plastic seat divider of the plane to press his lips against his best friend’s. He’d initiated so few of their tender moments over the past week, but he was totally fine with being the initiator of this one, No pretence. No pride on the line. No one watching. Just them. Just them and the beautiful, overwhelming relief that he wasn’t going to lose Newt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t have to pretend this time, so he didn’t bother trying. Instead, he let one hand rest on Newt’s hip and the other curl into his hair. He changed his mind instantly. This was his favourite kiss. Despite the hundreds of people around them, this felt like </span>
  <em>
    <span>theirs. </span>
  </em>
  <span>A moment that belonged to only them after a week of acting and pretending because of others. If Newt wanted to be there, with him, then that was all that mattered. That was all he wanted, apparently for a lot longer than he’d realised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he pulled back, Thomas rested his head against Newt’s, his chest threatening to burst with elation. He felt like he’d swallowed the sun. He felt like a mortal allowed to love a god. He felt a thousand things he hadn’t even known he was capable of feeling in previous relationships. Newt was his. At least, he bloody well hoped so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I love you.” Thomas said slowly, though there was no thought about it. Thomas was </span>
  <em>
    <span>positive </span>
  </em>
  <span>he loved Newt. Now more than ever, he wondered how he could’ve ever not noticed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, but only on one condition,” Newt answered instantly, and up so close, he could see the spark of mischief clearly in his eyes. “We can’t tell the others it was ever fake. They all had to give Sonya $10. She made out like a bandit from this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thomas laughed brightly, shaking his head, “And let Gally have the satisfaction of being right? Please. I’ll take that to my grave.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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